"It was I who brought you, a little child, to her house before you were confided to the care of the Quakeresses at Bristol." "Is it possible!" And, impetuously seizing Lebeau's hand, she added:-- "Then you knew my parents? O, I beseech you, sir, tell me something of my mother! Who was she? Do I resemble her? Where did she die, and how?" The queries crowded to her lips in an imperative tumult. Lebeau's features relaxed in a melancholy smile. "Patience!" he replied. "Later I will tell you all. Only know that your mother was exceedingly beautiful, and that you are her living image. She too was carried away by excess of emotion and by the thirst of adventure. There was no one at hand to give her timely warning, and she paid dearly for her imprudence." Esther bowed her head, while a tear glided slowly from her lashes to her cheek. "It was then that your father met her and took pity upon her. She was in sore need of pity and protection. Her child was born. You are that child." "Alas!" murmured Esther. "But my father--is he still living?" "Yes." "Why does he not come? Why does he not show himself? I should be so happy to embrace him!" At this moment an extraordinary change took place in Lebeau. His features, scarred by the battle with life, his dulled eyes, his entire vulgar face were ennobled with a solemn tenderness. Irresistibly his arms seemed to open to clasp the girl to his breast. Then they fell at his sides, and his face resumed its expression of discouragement and fatigue. "Your father would indeed be happy," he said, "and very proud to call you his daughter; but circumstances prevent. I do not justify his conduct; far from it. He has committed wrongs, grievous wrongs,--and even more than that!" Esther recoiled from him violently. "You are my father's friend, and you calumniate him!" Lebeau's only response was a shrug of his shoulders and a sigh. He turned to the window, and from a convulsive movement of his back Esther divined that he was weeping. In a moment she was at his side. "Pardon me!" she cried, "pardon! You are perhaps the only human being whose interest in me is not tainted with calculation. You have saved me from death, you have saved me from shame, and by way of recompense I accuse and wound you! O, pardon me, my friend!" Delightful words to Lebeau's ear! "Thank you, my child," he said; "thank you, and good by. It is already daybreak, and all is calm. Sleep in peace. In a few hours I will return."