“’Deed, ’deed, I ’elare to my Judge, marster, I never knowed nobody was in here, which dere almost never is nobody in here; and I didn’t know nothing about the lady wisiter, as she must a-come on along of Dr. Willet or Lieutenant Bruce, ’cause I didn’t let her in myself and didn’t know nothing about it, sir; and likewise thought as you was in the libery. And as for the tramp, sir, he did say as he wanted to speak to you werry particular, to bring you news of a long-absent friend——” “An excuse to beg! An excuse to beg! Or to swindle! Or to extort money! What did the ruffian call himself?” “He ’clined to give no name, sir, but said how you’d know him when you seed him.” “An impudent liar! I never set eyes on him before. I wish I had committed him!” exclaimed the old man, who was all this time diligently chafing the temples of the unconscious woman with hartshorn. “So I just put him in here to wait, sir, where I thought there wa’n’t nobody sitting, nor likewise nothing to steal, ’cept ’twas them old, worm-eaten books in the old screwter.” “Worm-eaten books, you villain! My precious blackletter copies of the early Christian fathers? If the thief had gone off with any of them, your hide should have paid for it! Oh, Heaven! No change in her yet! I _must_ have woman’s help here,” said the commodore, breaking off in his abuse of the servant and attentively regarding the marble face below him. “See here, sir! Go and ask my sister to come here immediately! Don’t alarm her, you rascal! Don’t say a word about the fainting lady! Just deliver my message.” The footman, glad to escape, hurried out of the room to obey this order. While he was gone the old man continued to chafe the temples or beat the hands of his patient and groan over her and curse the tramp. In a few minutes the widowed sister came in, saying pleasantly: “Did you want me, brother?” Then seeing the motionless form of a woman extended on the sofa, she started and exclaimed: “Who is that?” “Come here, Margaret. Don’t scream nor cry, nor above all, don’t faint. One fainting woman is as much as I can get along with at one time,” said the commodore, taking his sister by the arm and leading her to the sofa. “But who is this lady? What ails her? How came she here?” inquired the puzzled woman, bending over the unconscious form. “Don’t you recognize her? Look again,” said the old man uneasily. “No, I do not,” replied the lady, after a careful scrutiny. “I believe you are right; for now I come to think of it, you never met her.” “But who is she?” The old man hesitated for one weak moment, and then loyally answered: “This lady is Emolyn Bruce, the widow of my poor, dear Lonny.” The widow’s brown eyes opened wide in amazement as she answered in a low, frightened voice: “I never knew that Leonidas had been married!”