remembered something peculiar in that cry of "Man overboard!" and it
shocked me. I hurried below, and went to the cabin of Boyd Madras. It
was empty; but on a shelf lay a large envelope, addressed to Hungerford
and myself. I tore it open. There was a small packet, which I knew
contained the portrait he had worn on his bosom, addressed to Mrs.
Falchion; and the other was a single sheet directed to me, fully written
upon, and marked in the corner: "To be made public."

So, he had disappeared from the play? He had made his exit? He had
satisfied the code at last? Before opening the letter addressed to me,
I looked round. His clothes were folded upon one of the berths; but the
garments of masquerade were not in the cabin. Had he then gone out of
the world in the garb of a mummer? Not altogether, for the false beard
he had worn the night before lay beside the clothes. But this terrible
earnestness of his would look strange in last night's disguise.

I opened the packet addressed to Hungerford and myself, and saw that it
contained a full and detailed account of his last meeting with his wife.
The personal letter was short. He said that his gratitude was
unspeakable, and now must be so for ever. He begged us not to let the
world know who he was, nor his relationship to Mrs. Falchion, unless she
wished it; he asked me to hand privately to her the packet bearing her
name. Lastly, he requested that the paper for the public be given to the
captain of the 'Fulvia'.

Going out into the passage, I found a steward, who hurriedly told me that
just before the alarm was given he had seen Boyd Madras going aft in that
strange costume, which he mistook for a dressing-gown, and he had come to
see if, by any chance, it was he who had gone overboard. I told him that
it was. He disappeared, and soon the whole ship knew it. I went to the