laughed over some of the incidents of my
chequered career. She bantered me, too, on the
feeble and wayward impulses by which I had
suffered myself to be moved, and gravely asked
me, had I accomplished any single one of all
objects I had set before my mind in starting?

Far more earnestly, however, did we discuss
the future. She heard with joy that I had already
secured a passage for Constantinople, and
declared that she could not dismiss from her
mind the impression that I was destined to aid
their return to happiness and prosperity. I
liked the notion, too, of there being a fate in
our first meeting; a fate in that acquaintanceship
with the Croftons, which gave the occasion
to seek her out again; and last of all, if it
might be so, a fate in the influence I was to
exercise over their fortunes. I was so absorbed
in these pleasant themes, that I, with as little
of the lion in my heart as any man breathing,
never once thought of the quarrel and its
impending consequences. How my heart beat as
her soft breath fanned me while she spoke!
As she was telling when and from whence I was
to write to her, the servant came to say that a
gentleman outside begged to see Mr. Potts. I
hurried to the hall.

"Not come to disturb you, Potts," said the
skipper, in a brisk tone; "only thought it best
to make your mind easy. It's all right."

"A thousand thanks, captain," said I, warmly.
"I knew when the negotiation was in your
hands, it would be so."

"Yes; his friend, a Major Colesby, boggled a
bit at first. Couldn't see the thing in the light
I put it. Asked very often 'who were you?'
asked, too, 'who I was?' Good that! it made me
laugh. Rather late in the day, I take it, to ask
who Bob Rogers is! But in the end, as I said,
it all comes right, quite right."

"And his apology was full, ample, and
explicit? Was it in writing, Rogers? I'd like
it in writing."

"Like what in writing?"

''His apology, or explanation, or whatever
you like to call it."

"Who ever spoke of such a thing? Who
so much as dreamed of it? Haven't I told
you the affair is all right? and what does all right
mean, eh?—what does it mean?"

"I know what it ought to mean," said I,
angrily.

"So do I, and so do most men in this island,
sir. It means twelve paces under the Battery
wall, fire together, and as many shots as the
aggrieved asks for. That's all right, isn't it?"

"In one sense it is so," said I, with a mock
composure.

"Well, that's the only sense I ever meant to
consider it by. Go back now to your tea, or
your sugar-and-water, or whatever it is, and
when you come home to-night, step into my
room, and we'll have a cozy chat and a cigar.
There's one or two trifling things that I don't
understand in this affair, and I put my own
explanation on them, and maybe it ain't the right
one. Not that it signifies now, you perceive,
because you are here to the fore, and can set them
right. But as by this time to-morrow you might
be where—I won't mention—we may as well
put them straight this evening."

"I'll beat you up, depend upon it," said I,
affecting a slap-dash style. " I can't tell you
how glad I am to have fallen into your hands,
Rogers. You suit me exactly."

"Well, it's more than I expected when I saw
you first, and I kept saying to myself, 'Whatever
could have persuaded Joe to send me a
creature like that?' To tell you the truth, I
thought you were in the cheap funeral line."

"Droll dog!" said I, while my fingers were
writhing and twisting with passion.

"Not that it's fair to take a fellow by his
looks. I'm aware of that, Potts. But go back
to the parlour—that's the second time the maid
has come out to see what keeps you. Go back,
and enjoy yourself; maybe you won't have so
pleasant an opportunity soon again."

This was the parting speech of the wretch as
he buttoned the collar of his coat, and with a
short nod bade me good-by, and left me.

"Why did you not ask your friend to take a
cup of tea with us?" said Kate, as I re-entered
the drawing-room.

"Oh! it was the skipper, a rough sort of
creature, not exactly made for drawing-room
life; besides, he only came to ask me a
question."

"I hope it was not a very unpleasant one, for
you look pale and anxious."

"Nothing of the kind—a mere formal matter
about my baggage."

It was no use; from that moment, I was the
most miserable of mankind. What availed it
to speculate any longer on the future? How
could I interest myself in what years might
bring forth? Hours, and a very few of them,
were all that were left to me. Poor girl! how
tenderly she tried to divert my sorrow; she,
most probably, ascribed it to the prospect of
our speedy separation; and with delicacy and
tact, she tried to trace out some faint
outlines of what painters call "extreme
distance"—a sort of future, where all the skies
would be rose-coloured and all the mountains
blue. I am sure, if a choice had been given me
at that instant, I would rather have been a
courageous man than the greatest genius in the
universe. I knew better what was before me.
At last it came to ten o'clock, and I arose to
say good-by. I found it very hard not to fall
upon her neck, and say, "Don't be angry with
poor Potts; this is his last as it is his first
embrace."

"Wear that ring for me and for my sake,"
said she, giving me one from her finger; "don't
refuse me—it has no value save what you may
attach to it from having been mine."

Oh dear! what a gulp it cost me not to say,
"I'll never take it off while I live," and then
add, "which will be about eight hours and a
half more."

When I got into the open air, I ran as if a
pack of wolves were in pursuit of me. I cannot