"Mr. Moore. Allow me to congratulate you. Was that your bride sitting by your side during the exercises." "That was Mrs. Raymond, my partner's wife. But what a strange question for _you_ to ask, Alice. I supposed _you_ had consented to take that name, if ever any one. Mr. Wilde, I received your message through Mr. Raymond, but I knew you were once too sincere a friend of mine, and are always too honorable a man, to refuse me a chance of explanation." "Say your say," was the raftsman's curt reply. "You need not speak one word, Philip. It is I who ought to beg _your_ forgiveness, that I have wronged you by doubting you. Love--oh, love, should never doubt--never be deceived!" exclaimed Alice. "It would have taken much to have disturbed my faith in you, Alice." "Because I had every motive for loving you; while you--you had pride, prejudice, rank, fashion, every thing to struggle against in choosing me." "Indeed!" cried Philip. "Yes, every thing, to be sure!" and he cast such an expressive glance over her youthful loveliness that she blushed with the delicious consciousness of her own charms. "Old, ugly, awkward, and ignorant, how ashamed I shall be of my wife!" "But, Philip!" her tearful eyes, with the smiles flashing through them, made the rest of her excuses for her. Holding her hand, which was all the caress the presence of strangers would permit, Philip turned to the raftsman. "I asked you for your daughter's hand, in the letter which I sent you on the return of the young man who brought me from your home, last autumn, since your sudden change of plans prevented my asking you in person. I have not yet had your answer." When he said "letter" Alice's eyes turned to Ben, who had been standing within hearing all this time; he met her questioning look now with one of stubborn despair. "You gave us no letters, Ben." Philip also turned, and the angry blood rushed into his face. "Did you not deliver the letters I sent by you, young man?" "Ha! ha! ha! no, by thunder, I didn't! Did you think a man was such a fool as to help put the halter round his own neck? I didn't give the letters, but I told all the lies I could to hurt you, Philip Moore. You ought to be a dead man now, by good rights. The game's not up yet. Let me tell you that!" and scowling at the party, he strode away into the night. "He ought to be arrested--he is a dangerous fellow," said Mr. Wilde, looking after him uneasily. "I am sorry for him," said Philip, "but that can do him no good." "Look out for him, Philip; you can not be too wary--he will kill you if he gets a chance. Oh, how much trouble that desperate boy has given me. I can not be happy while I know he is about." "Thar', thar', child, don't you go to getting nervous again. We'll take care of Ben. Don't you trouble your head about him." "If you could guess what I have suffered this winter past," whispered Alice, pressing closer to her lover.