ark, perhaps you'll be as willing to give him your name."

"And why am I to take your name?"

"To give it to Bertha, there!"

"Give it to Bertha?"

"Yes! Sign the contract, which the burgomaster has in his pocket;
sign it as Daniel;--'tis your only chance. And when you are gone, I
have paid my debt. And don't let us cross each other again. You gave
me my life, but that is no reason you should rob me of my wife!"

"Rob you of your wife?"

"Yes, of Bertha, who loved me six years ago!"

"Why, she has barely known me six hours!"

"True, but she loves you six times as much as she does the memory of
Daniel!"

"But I do not care for her, beyond gratitude for sheltering me from
pursuit."

"Oh, she has enough love for two of you!"

"Well, to me, one wife or another,--and she is a nice girl,--and,
friend Daniel, where shall we go?"

"We?--who?"

"My wife and I," said the other, laughing

"You, comrade? I will manage for you; but your wife will stop here."

"Stop here?"

"Why, you don't suppose I can give up the good girl I have loved for
the six years I've been rolling over the seas! 'Tis true, she
doesn't remember me, and thinks me dead; but when she learns the
truth, all the old love will come back; and she will like me none
the less for aiding you. The burgomaster, who shall be in the plot,
shall marry you to _my wife_,--and when you are gone, God speed you!
The burgomaster will set all that right, as he can; and Bertha and I
will often talk, in our seaside cot, of the French officer that we
saved."

Here Doome interrupted the dialogue; for she could not conquer her
curiosity farther. So she came up, and complimented the French
officer (who was to be called Daniel) on his marriage. "To be sure,
he had almost forgotten German; for, as Bertha said, he had left
home almost before he could speak like a man, and had been in the
French service,--and so there it was! No doubt, now he had come back
to Germany, he would soon learn German again, and speak it like a
native;--eh, friend sailor?" "What, little one? I didn't hear you."

The "little one," not dissatisfied at that term, flounced round, and
then gave a little scream,--for all the neighbors, with the
burgomaster at their head, were approaching the little house. When
they arrived, and the change of husbands was announced, not a
neighbor but framed a little mental history,--and, indeed, Jodoque
cut rather a ridiculous figure. As for the burgomaster,--who