N.B. Burress, watching my repose, and from the adjoining office came the
murmur of voices that proved that the long interview between Dr.
Pemberton and his patient was still in progress.

At this moment, one of the walnut-leaves of the small folding-door,
that formed a communication between the study and office of the good
physician, swung itself gently on its noiseless hinges, into the
position distinguished in description as "slightly ajar," and thus
remained fixed, after a fashion that spiritual mediums might have been
able to account for, on supernatural principles.

The low murmur of voices then readily resolved itself into shaped words
and sentences, and, but for my deep languor, and the delightful sense of
security that possessed me, I should have risen and closed the obliging
door, to shut out unintentional communications.

As it was, I lingered and listened, as one might do to the dash of
waves, or the rustling of branches, until suddenly the tones and meaning
of the principal interlocutor caused me to rise to my loftiest sitting
posture, and clasp the arms of the chair I occupied, while the strained
ear of attention drank in every syllable of the remainder of the
narrative, evidently drawing near its close.

The low monotony of a continued discourse pervaded the voice, the manner
of the speaker, the thread of whose story was no longer interrupted, as
before, by the comments or questions of his companion, intent upon the
vital interest of the tale.

"So I turned back at Panama," said the _raconteur_, probably, of a
series of adventures, "and abandoned my project altogether. The man
spoke with an air and tone of truth: the sketch was unmistakably hers.
The whole thing was full of _vraisemblance_, so to speak, and bore me
completely off my feet. The initials beneath the sketch of Christian
Garth were identical with her own.

"He referred me to Captain Van Dome for confirmation of the saving of
the few remaining passengers on the raft, and her presence in the ship
Latona, together with that of the child and negress.

"I have seen Captain Van Dorne, and he admits the part he played, on the
representation of Bainrothe; and, through the evidence of a newspaper
advertisement, of the previous autumn, which had met his eye, to satisfy
the puerile scruples of this really good but ignorant man--going no
deeper than the surface in his code of morals--they were obliged to tear
out the record of their names, and take