as she listened if there were
many in England who heard through the joyous peal the sound of a bell
tolling for some one whose life or death meant more to them than
victory or defeat.

'God help them all!' she whispered to herself, for she was one of those
whose tender sympathy grows wider at the touch of their own sorrow.

The dining-room was almost dark. Patty had put a candle on the table,
but its rays hardly reached the end of the room. The shutters were not
closed, and outside it was starlight, as it had been on that Christmas
night when she and Godfrey and the captain looked at the Plough shining
over the homes of Oakfield. The strange visitor was standing by the
table. He turned when Angel came in and gave a great start as he saw
her standing there in the doorway, dressed as she had been when Godfrey
saw her first, in a white gown with black ribbons, and with the chain
round her neck on which she always wore the miniature of her brother.
He did not speak, so she said:

'You wished to see me, sir?'

'Yes,' began the stranger hurriedly; 'you are Miss Wyndham, I am
sure--Miss Angelica Wyndham. I came--I wished--I once knew some
relatives of yours in the West Indies.'

'My brother,' said Angel, faltering a little. Was this a friend of
Bernard's come to ask for Godfrey?--and Godfrey was gone.

'Your brother, yes; I knew him very well.'

'He was killed in a rising of the slaves nine years ago,' said Angelica.

'I know his death was reported,' said the stranger; 'there were many
killed, and some--some who had marvellous escapes, and returned to find
their friends dead, or believed to be dead, and themselves perhaps
forgotten.' Something more in the tone than in the words thrilled
Angel strangely. She began to tremble.

'Please tell me what you mean,' she said, and she tried to see her
visitor's face, but his back was to the light and he stood in deep
shadow.

'Some of those supposed to be lost came back,' he said, and his voice
faltered too.

Angel put out her hand.

'You have something to tell me,' she said, leaning back against a high
carved arm-chair.

The next moment his arm was supporting her, his voice, hoarse and
broken, was in her ear.

'Angelica--Angel, do you not understand? Can you remember, can you
forgive, do you think? I never guessed that you would care. I thought
only to bring trouble if I came. Will you try and forgive me now?'

Angel stood half stunned for a minute lean