And Ellen gladly obeyed; for it was from no imaginary cause that the receipt of Edward's letters so often paled her cheek, and parched her lip with terror. She knew that concerning him which none else but Harding did; and even when those letters imparted nothing but that which she could read to her family, the dread was quite enough to banish any thing like the elastic happiness, natural to her age, and called for by the kindness of those she loved. His letter this time, however, had not a word to call for that sickness of the heart, with which she had received it, and she read it again and again; with a thankfulness, too intense for words. "You dropped this, Ellen dear," said the voice of her cousin Emmeline at her door, ten minutes after she left the breakfast-room. "It was under the table, and I do not think you have read it; it is the inclosure I was so amused at." "I dare say it is a letter written for some other opportunity, and forgotten to be sent; it is only a few words," replied Ellen as she looked at its length, not at its meaning, for the fearful lesson of quiet unconcern when the heart is bursting had been too early learned. "Then I will leave you in peace: by-the-by, cousin mine, papa told me to tell you, that as the Prince William is soon going to cruise again, your answer to Edward must be ready this day week, the latest, and mamma says, if you like to write part of it now that all Edward's little love-speeches are fresh in your mind, you can do so; it is your birthday, and you may spend it as you like. How I shall enjoy making a lion of my cousin, when he comes!"--and away tripped the happy girl, singing some wild snatch of an old ballad about sailors. Ellen shut the door, secured it, and with a lip and cheek colorless as her robe, an eye strained and bloodshot, read the following words--few indeed! "Ellen! I am again in that villain's power, and for a sum so trifling, that it maddens me to think I can not discharge it without again appealing to you. I had resolved never to play again--and again some demon lured me to those Hells! If I do not pay him by my next receipts from home, he will expose me, and what then--disgrace, expulsion, _death_! for I will not survive it; there are easy means of self-destruction to a sailor, and who shall know but that he is accidentally drowned? You promised me to save part of every allowance, in case I needed it. If you would indeed save me, send me five-and-thirty pounds! Ellen! by some means, I _must_ have it; but breathe it to my uncle or aunt--for if _she_ knows it, _he_ will--and you will never see me more!"