"Yes?" said the old lady.

"He's been missing," said Mr. Wotton, watching closely for any symptoms
of fainting, "for thir-ty-five years. Thir-ty-five years ago-very much
against his wish-he left 'is young and handsome wife to go for a sea
v'y'ge, and was shipwrecked and cast away on a desert island."

"Yes?" said the old lady again.

"I was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton. "Both of us was cast away
with him."

He indicated Mr. Davis with his hand, and the old lady, after a glance at
that gentleman, turned to Mr. Wotton again.

"We was on that island for longer than I like to think of," continued Mr.
Wotton, who had a wholesome dread of dates. "But we was rescued at last,
and ever since then he has been hunting high and low for his wife."

"It's very interesting," murmured the old lady; "but what has it got to
do with me?"

Mr. Wotton gasped, and cast a helpless glance at his friend.

"You ain't heard his name yet," he said, impressively. "Wot would you
say if I said it was--Ben Davis?"

"I should say it wasn't true," said the old lady, promptly.