"I agree with you. Mr. Moss, you can render me an obligation, and you can do a kindness to the poor child's mother. She has implored me to endeavour to place this small iron box in the care of the guardians of her child, to be retained by them for twenty-one years, or until the mother claims it, which she will be free to do in the event of her husband dying during her lifetime. I do not know what it contains, and I understand that it is to be given up to no other person than the child or her mother. Will you do this for me or for her?" "For both of you, doctor," replied Mr. Moss, lifting the box from the table. "It shall be given into their care, as the mother desires. And now I must be off; I have a busy night before me. Do you go to London to-morrow?" "A train leaves in a couple of hours; I shall travel by that." "Well, good-night, and good luck to you. If you want to write to me, you know my address." They parted with cordiality, and each took his separate way, Dr. Spenlove to the City of Unrest, and Mr. Moss to the peaceful town of Gosport, humming as he went, among other snatches from his favourite opera,-- "Dio dell' or del mondo signor, Sei possente risplendente, Sei possente resplendente, Culto hai tu maggior guaggiù. Non v'ha un uom che non t'incensi Stan prostati innanzi a te; Ed i popolied i re; I bei scudi tu dispensi, Del la terra il Dio sei tu." BOOK THE SECOND. _RACHEL_. CHAPTER X. THE VISION IN THE CHURCHYARD. Some twelve months before the occurrence of the events recorded in the preceding chapters, a Jew, bearing the name of Aaron Cohen, had come to reside in the ancient town of Gosport. He was accompanied by his wife, Rachel. They had no family, and their home was a home of love.