he wreck, and so does Old Ben, the negro
who has the boathouse on the shore."

The wounded officer's interest increased.

"I would like to visit that wreck some time, if it is still intact," he
said. "I left some valuable papers in a secret closet. It is possible
they are still on board."

"Do you know who was saved from the wreck?"

"Saved? No one was saved."

"You are mistaken--a lady and her child were saved. The lady died two
days later, but the child still lives."

"What was the name of that lady? Tell me, quick?" gasped the officer,
and tried to sit up, but fell back through weakness.

"Do not excite yourself, Colonel Stanton, I beg of you!" pleaded Mrs.
Ruthven, in alarm, fearful of the patient's agitation.

"But tell me the name of that lady--and was the child a boy?"

"I do not know the name of the lady, for she was badly hurt and could
not give it. The boy's name was Jack."

"Jack! My child's name was Jack. And you say he still lives?"

"He does. The child is our Jack, for my husband and I adopted him."

"Your Jack? That fine, manly fellow? Oh, Mrs. Ruthven, send him to me at
once!"

"I cannot do that just now, Colonel Stanton."

"If only we can prove he is my son! Have you nothing belonging to the
lady?"

"Yes, I have her clothing, also the little boy's, and some jewelry."

"Bring them to me," and now the colonel sank back, too weak to say more.

As much agitated as her patient, Mrs. Ruthven hurried from the room, and
presently returned with the clothing, the lace handkerchief, and the
wedding ring.

"They were my darling Laura's!" murmured Colonel Stanton, as he gazed at
the things. "And this was little Jack's dress. Mrs. Ruthven, beyond a
doubt Jack is my son!"

"I suspected as much two days ago, Colonel Stanton. When you had a fever
you spoke of a shipwreck and of the loss of your wife and son Jack. Yes,
Jack must be your son. But how were you saved?"

"It is a strange tale, madam. As you know, my wife and my son were
washed ashore. I thought them drowned. Hours after I found myself, I
scarcely know how, clinging to a spar, tossing up and down on the dreary
waste of waters, far out to sea."

"And you were picked up?"

"Not for twenty-four hours or more. Then those on a passing ship espied
me, and sent out a small boat to my rescue. I can remember how they
hauled me in, and how I shrieked with joy, and then fell to the deck
unconscious."

"The exposure was too much for you."