Jennie was the first to recover herself. A moment’s reflection enabled her to understand the situation—that Kightly Montgomery, under his new name and with his new wife, was her fellow passenger on the _Scorpio_. This was clear enough to her now. She was also the first to break the spell of silence, though it cost her an effort to do so, and her voice quivered, and she lowered her eyes as she said: “You seem to take me for an optical illusion.” He still glared at her without answering. “I am no ‘illusion,’” she continued, more steadily, gaining more self-control every moment. “If not—what—in the devil—are you?” he gasped at length, terrified, yet aggressive. “I am your wife; but shall never claim, or wish to claim, the position,” she replied, still keeping her eyes down to avoid the pain of seeing his face. “You are—I do not—I thought——How——” he began, in utter confusion of mind, and with his eyes starting from the intensity of his stare. “Go away, please, and collect yourself. Do not fear me. I shall not trouble you. But pray, go now, and do not come near me or speak to me again,” said Jennie. “But I thought—you were dead!” he blurted out, with brutal bluntness. Jennie reflected for a moment. Why should he have thought that she was dead, even though he had tried to kill her, and had indeed left her for dead? Then she concluded that he must have fled from the city immediately after having committed the crime by which he had intended to rid himself of her forever; but she made no reply to his remark. “Why have you followed me here?” he demanded, trying to cover his intense anxiety with an air of bravado. “I did not follow you. I did not know that you were to be on this boat. How should I have known it? And why should I have followed you?” she calmly inquired. “How is it—that you are here, then?” he questioned, his voice still shaking, his eyes staring, his form supported against the bulwarks of the ship. “I am going home to my father’s house. When I got well in the Samaritan Hospital a few good women of means clubbed together and raised the funds to give me an outfit and pay my passage to England. They engaged for me one of the best staterooms in the ladies’ cabin.” “How is it—that I have never seen you—or suspected your presence on the ship before? Have you been hiding from me?” “No; I have already told you that I did not know you were on board. You have not seen me because I have been seasick in my stateroom. This is my first day on deck. And now will you please to go away and leave me?” “Presently. By Jove, Jennie, you take things very coolly!” he exclaimed, drawing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his forehead, on which beads of perspiration stood out. “What do you intend to do?” he suddenly demanded. “Nothing to trouble you while you are on this ship. I do not wish to see, or speak to, or even to know you here again, and I will not.”