will restrain your repugnance, and accord me a short interview. Need I
say that no other subject shall be introduced by me? In England, should
we ever reach it, I may perhaps try to take measures to regain your good
opinion; but here, I am aware, that is impossible; and I shall make no
attempt in that direction, upon my honor."

To this came a prompt and feminine reply.


"The ship is Mr. Arthur Wardlaw's. The captain and the mate are able men,
appointed by him. Your suspicions of these poor men are calumnies, and of
a piece with your other monstrous slanders.

"I really must insist on your holding no further communications of any
sort with one to whom your character is revealed and odious.

H. R."


This letter benumbed his heart at first. A letter? It was a blow; a blow
from her he loved, and she hated him!

His long-suffering love gave way at last. What folly and cruelty
combined! He could no longer make allowances for the spite of a woman
whose lover had been traduced. Rage and despair seized him; he bit his
nails and tore his hair with fury, and prayed Heaven to help him hate her
as she deserved, "the blind, insolent idiot!" Yes, these bitter words
actually came out of his mouth, in a torrent of injury.

But to note down all he said in his rage would be useless; and might