“Better than my life.” “And he told you I only wanted an excuse to go to England?” “He did, indeed. It was not true?” “It was anything but true. I had suffered so in England; I had been so happy here: too happy to last. Ah! well, it is all over. Let us think of the matter in hand. Sure that was not the only letter you gave my husband? Didn't you write to HER?” “Of course I did; but that was enclosed to you, and not to be given to her until you had broken the joyful news to her. Yes, Mrs. Falcon, I wrote and told her everything: my loss at sea; how I was saved, after, by your kindness. Our journeys, from Cape Town, and then to the diggings; my sudden good fortune, my hopes, my joy--O my poor Rosa! and now I suppose she will never get it. It is too cruel of him. I shall go home by the next steamer. I CAN'T stay here any longer, for you or anybody. Oh, and I enclosed my ruby ring that she gave me, for I thought she might not believe you without that.” “Let me think,” said Phoebe, turning ashy pale. “For mercy's sake, let me think! “He has read both those letters, sir. “She will never see hers: any more than I shall see mine.” She paused again, thinking harder and harder. “We must take two places in the next mail steamer. I must look after my husband, AND YOU AFTER YOUR WIFE.” CHAPTER XXV. Mrs. Falcon's bitter feeling against Dr. Staines did not subside; it merely went out of sight a little. They were thrown together by potent circumstances, and in a manner connected by mutual obligations; so an open rupture seemed too unnatural. Still Phoebe was a woman, and, blinded by her love for her husband, could not forgive the innocent cause of their present unhappy separation; though the fault lay entirely with Falcon. Staines took her on board the steamer, and paid her every attention. She was also civil to him; but it was a cold and constrained civility. About a hundred miles from land the steamer stopped, and the passengers soon learned there was something wrong with her machinery. In fact, after due consultation, the captain decided to put back. This irritated and distressed Mrs. Falcon so that the captain, desirous to oblige her, hailed a fast schooner, that tacked across her bows, and gave Mrs. Falcon the option of going back with him, or going on in the schooner, with whose skipper he was acquainted. Staines advised her on no account to trust to sails, when she could have steam with only a delay of four or five days; but she said, “Anything sooner than go back. I can't, I can't on such an errand.” Accordingly she was put on board the schooner, and Staines, after some hesitation, felt bound to accompany her. It proved a sad error. Contrary winds assailed them the very next day, and with such severity that they had repeatedly to lie to.