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"Well then, do you know, I should," said
Mr. Colter, gaily. " I have, however, a few
little things to put together first."

"Hope you enjoyed the voyage," said the
consul.

"Well I did, since you ask me," he answered.
"It has really been like Westminster Hall all
the way. I suppose you can give me half an
hour?"

Half an hour after that he came into the
saloon muffled up to go. I and the captain
were the only people there. " Good-bye," said
Mr. Colter, good humouredly, " for the present.
It seems a little invidious my being the only one
allotcfd to go ashore, but I shall be back in the
morning. Good-bye."

"And what legacy do you leave behind?"
said a woman's voice close by. We looked up,
and saw flashing eyes, and distorted features,
and a quivering lip.

"Good gracious!" said Mr. Colter.

"What legacy? I say," she repeated; "a
noble, manly, and chivalrous one! You a
gentleman? No; I will tell you what you are --
a miserable spy, a common detective! God
forgive you."

"What strange language!" said Mr. Colter,
looking round.

"If I was a low creature I would curse you,"
she went on, in a fury; " I would pray -- as I
will pray to-night -- that the boat which takes
you to shore may open and sink to the bottom.
You mean, unworthy spy, you! You mouchard,

you! You crawling, creeping, sneaking spy;
this is the dirty work you love! Curse you, I
say!"

"What language!" said Mr. Colter, not in
the least disturbed.

"What have I done to you? Why did you
fasten on me from the beginning of the voyage
a poor woman that did you no harm -- tell me
that -- eh?"

Mr. Colter suddenly became grave. (It was
a curious and most exciting scene; the yellow
oil lamps of the saloon playing on her face.)

"Since you ask me," he said, " I shall tell
you -- something, at least. Young William
Arlington, your husband -- that was --"

"Was?" she repeated, faltering.

"-- was the son of a very dear friend of mine.
I knew something of his history -- how the
foolish boy had been entrapped into a
marriage at Boulogne with a sort of half French
woman, that no one knew anything of, and
about whom there were strange rumours. Now,
Mrs. Arlington?"

"False, false -- every word of it," she said,
furiously.

"We shall see," he said, gathering up his
coats and shawls. " I shall not appear much
more in this business. Others will look after
it. Sorry no one else is allowed on shore.
Good night all."

She gave a half shriek, and shook her hand
at him.

"May that boat of yours sink you, sink you,
sink --"

She stopped herself, and rushed back into
her cabin, for stray passengers were looking
out in wonder. I could not for a long while
get rid of the dreadful idea of her appearance
as I saw her then.

In the morning -- a beautiful bright morning --
we saw the fine gorgeous coast quite clear.
But, to my astonishment, there were police in
the Spanish dress on the deck, talking with
the captain, who was very excited. And the
English consul was there too. The passengers
were all gathered on the deck, and whispering.

At last the captain went down, and two of
the officers. He came up in a moment, with a
wild, scared face.

She was in her cabin; but it was fast locked.
No one had seen her. No one could see her, or
ever did see her again. That deadly look given
to Mr. Colter proved to be the last look she
gave to mortal man. When the anxious captain
had, at last, her cabin door forced, she was found
lying in her berth quite dead and cold; and the
ship's doctor pronounced that she had died of
poison.

When the English newspapers got out to the
Brazils, we all heard of the dreadful Chatham
murder of a young officer who had married a
half French milliner against the wishes of his
family.

The murderess, the papers said, had got away
-- it was believed in a Brazilian packet -- but
hoped, according to their favourite phrase, that
"the officers ot justice would soon be on her
track."

Mr. Colter made the return voyage successfully,
and much improved in his health, and is
now the well-known Serjeant Colter, who stands
next for Solicitor-General.

Now ready, THE EXTRA CHRISTMAS DOUBLE
NUMBER, entitled

DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S
PRESCRIPTIONS.

I. TO BE TAKEN IMMEDIATELY.
II. NOT TO BE TAKEN AT BED-TIME.

III. TO BE TAKEN AT THE DINNER-TABLE.
IV. NOT TO BE TAKEN FOR GRANTED.
V. TO BE TAKEN IN WATER.
VI. TO BE TAKEN WITH A GRAIN OF SALT.
VII. TO BE TAKEN AND TRIED.
VIII. TO BE TAKEN FOR LIFE.
Price Fourpence, stitched in a cover.

COMPLETION OF MR. CHARLES DICKENS'S NEW
WORK.

Now ready, in 2 vols., price 22s.,

OUR MUTUAL FRIEND.
With 40 Illustrations by MARCUS STONE.
London: CHAPMAN and HALL, 193, Piccadilly.

THE FOURTEENTH VOLUME
Will be published on the 15th of January, price 5s. 6d.,
bound in cloth.

The fiiff/il of Translating Ai tides from ALL THE YEAR HOUND is reserved by the Authors.

Published at the Office, Ko 26, Wellington Street. Strand. Printed by C. WHITLSO, Beaufort House, Strand.