"It is but too true, sir," replied the officer. "He would come off in the boat last night, when we were unfortunate enough to get upon the reef; and, as I told him, would be the case, he was drowned; the only chance was staying by the ship till the wind went down. The first thing we saw this morning, when we got off ourselves, was his body, lying among the rocks, with that of one of the poor fellows who went with him. The other we have not found yet." "Then I am to understand you," said Charles Tyrrell, "that he was safe and well on board your ship last night." "Quite so," replied the lieutenant, with some expression of surprise, at questions, the tendency of which he did not understand. "But had he not been ill to your knowledge?" demanded Charles Tyrrell. "Oh yes," replied the lieutenant; "three or four days before, he had been very ill, up at a cottage, close by your park; and he had a spitting of blood, for which he thought the sea would do him good. So when he gave us information of the sailing of the schooner, he insisted upon coming with me; though, to say the truth, I wished him not. "I will show you in a moment, why I ask," continued Charles Tyrrell. "But, in the meantime, I should wish to speak, for an instant, to this reverend gentleman here present; and I should think that you know sufficient of me, to trust to my word, when I assure you that I will not make the slightest attempt to escape. But, as soon as I have made arrangements for the comfort and protection of this young lady, will return, and go with you wherever you please. Do you trust me?" "Most implicitly," replied the young officer, bowing. "You are not a man, sir, I know, to break your word," and, calling the sailors away, he turned toward the church, and left Charles and Lucy standing with the clergyman only. "What can I do for you, my good sir?" said the clergyman, mildly; "from what I have heard, I am led to suppose that I speak to Sir Charles Tyrrell, whose name has, unfortunately, become too familiar to us lately." "Unfortunately, indeed, sir," replied Charles Tyrrell. "But luckily a turn has taken place in these affairs, which will soon clear that name from every imputation. The simple facts are these, sir. I was accused, under circumstances of strong suspicion, of an awful and horrible crime, of which I was perfectly innocent. There were two circumstances, which seemed perfectly confirmatory of the accusation, and in regard to which I was prevented from giving any explanation, by the fear of involving others in still more dangerous affairs, than that in which I was myself placed. The sight, however, which I have had in this church, of the dead body of Lieutenant Hargrave, altogether removes the obstacles which prevented me from proving my innocence, and I willingly go back to take my trial. In the meantime, however, this young lady requires protection, repose, and consolation."