“This Miss Kempe is, undoubtedly, a woman of good character, holding extreme religious views, and willing to sacrifice everything in the discharge of her duty. She was at one time engaged to be married to Tom Williams, and although the match was broken off, is evidently still very much attached to the man. About a week since she came to me in travelling dress, and appeared very much fatigued with a long journey she said she had just taken across the channel. She also seemed much agitated, and asked me in an excited tone if I ever read the Gospel, and if I knew who it was Christ came to seek and to save? ‘See here, Miss Kempe,’ I said in reply, ‘if you are alluding to publicans and sinners, I conclude you have something to say to me about that rascal, Tom Williams. If so, say it at once, please, for I have no time for sermonizing, I assure you.’ ‘He is no rascal,’ she said, indignantly, ‘he is a repentant sinner, and will yet, please God, be numbered among the elect.’ Then she proceeded to tell me a very extraordinary story. How that Tom Williams arrived at Liverpool, intending to wait there for Lucy; how he waited and waited, and at length received, through some secret channel, the news of her death, and that the diamonds had been restored to you. In his haste to escape, he took passage in the first steamer he came across, which chanced to be a trader bound for Boulogne. It is also possible he imagined himself to be safer across the channel than across the Atlantic. Landing at Boulogne, he appears to have had some drunken quarrel with an Italian seaman, who wounded him severely in the thigh with a large clasp knife. Tom was eventually carried by some passers-by to a quiet lodging-house on the Quai, and the woman of the house showed him a great deal of kind attention. A fever set in after this stabbing affair, and Tom was reduced to a very low ebb. Utterly friendless, in a foreign country, and at death’s door, his thoughts turned to Miss Kempe as the one most likely to help him out of his troubles. He consequently made an appeal to her, couched in very penitent language, and implored her, by her past affection for him, to help him out of his sin and misery. This letter he sent under cover to some comrade in London, who posted it to Miss Kempe’s address. The bait succeeded admirably. The woman at once locked up her room, disposed of a few valuables she had, and started for Boulogne. At Charing Cross Station, when about to take her ticket for the night train, she caught sight of your luggage on the platform, addressed to Boulogne. She at once concluded you were in pursuit of Tom, and determined to wait and watch your proceedings. She, however, crossed the next morning, and hurrying to Tom, informed him of your approach, and asked what he thought it best to do. ‘This is what they want, Marian,’ he said, drawing the ring from under his pillow, ‘take it to them, and beg me off.’ This she seemed afraid to do, and