they have
brought upon my child's name. No, I never want to look upon her face
again. I trusted her, I tell you, and she has betrayed me. Let her go
and find her fate. But I am going too. I am weary of my life."

"Surely, Carson, surely," said my father, "you do not mean----"

"No, no; not that. Death comes soon enough. But I will leave this
civilized world which is a lie. We will go right away into the wilds, I
and my child, and hide our shame. Where? I don't know where. Anywhere,
so long as there are no white faces, no smooth educated tongues----"

"You are mad, Carson," my father answered. "How will you live? How can
you educate Stella? Be a man and wear it down."

"I will be a man, and I will wear it down, but not here, Quatermain.
Education! Was not she--that woman who was my wife--was not she highly
educated?--the cleverest woman in the country forsooth. Too clever for
me, Quatermain--too clever by half! No, no, Stella shall be brought
up in a different school; if it be possible, she shall forget her very
name. Good-bye, old friend, good-bye for ever. Do not try to find me
out, henceforth I shall be like one dead to you, to you and all I knew,"
and he was gone.

"Mad," said my father, with a heavy sigh. "His trouble has turned his
brain. But he will think better of it."

At that moment the nurse came hurrying in and whispered something in his
ear. My father's face turned deadly pale. He clutched at the table to
support himself, then staggered from the room. My mother was dying!

It was some days afterwards, I do not know exactly how long, that my
father took me by the hand and led me upstairs into the big room which
had been my mother's bedroom. There she lay, dead in her coffin, with
flowers in her hand. Along the wall of the room were arranged three
little white beds, and on each of the beds lay one of my brothers. They
all looked as though they were asleep, and they all had flowers in their
hands. My father told me to kiss them, because I should not see them any
more, and I did so, though I was very frightened. I did not know why.
Then he took me in his arms and kissed me.

"The Lord hath given," he said, "and the Lord hath taken away; blessed
be the name of the Lord."

I cried very much, and he took me downstairs, and after that I have only
a confused memory of men dressed in black carrying heavy burdens towards
the grey churchyard!

Next comes a vision of a great ship and wide tossing waters. My f