As if by magic, her gaze encountered that of the young sea captain who was staring at her with wild, half-frightened eyes, like one who sees a vision. Lora--for it was indeed herself--gazed at the handsome young sailor a moment in bewilderment; then a wild and piercing shriek of joy burst from her lips. She rushed forward and threw herself upon his broad breast in a transport of happiness. "Oh, Jack, Jack!" she cried, twining her white arms tightly around his neck, "you are alive! What happiness for your poor Lora!" Captain Mainwaring clasped and kissed her with passionate joy, understanding nothing very clearly except the one ecstatic fact that Lora was indeed alive, and having through his deep joy a vague consciousness that Mrs. St. John had somehow terribly wronged and deceived him. "You see," said Howard Templeton, coldly to Xenie as she stared speechlessly. "Lora has returned to claim her own. Your reign is over." Lora heard the words, and breaking from the fond clasp of her husband's arms, turned to her sister. "Oh, Xenie!" she cried, then she stopped short, and her lovely face flushed and her dark eyes beamed. She had caught sight of the beautiful boy that nestled in the clasp of her sister's arms. Lora watched him a moment with parted lips and eager eyes. "Oh!" she breathed, in tones of ineffable tenderness, "how beautiful he is!" then, in low and almost humble accents, she murmured: "Xenie, you will let me kiss him once." "It is Lora's voice and face," cried Mrs. St. John, half-retreating before her as she advanced, "and yet I saw Lora lying dead--drowned in the cruel sea!" "No, no," cried Lora, eagerly, "that poor creature you saw drowned was not your sister, Xenie." "She wore your shawl, your rings," exclaimed Mrs. St. John, incoherently. "Yes, that is true," said Lora, patiently, "but I can easily explain that, Xenie. She was a poor, mad creature that I met in my wandering--even madder than myself, perhaps, for I remember it all distinctly. She stripped me of my shawl and my jewels--to make herself fine as she said. I let her have them and she went away and left me. Then it must have been that she cast herself into the sea. It was she whom they found and whom you buried under the marble cross with my name upon it. She was some poor, unknown unfortunate whom you mourned as your sister." She came closer to her sister's side as she spoke, and looked up pleadingly into her face.