"Has he a large family?" asked Mrs. Applegate. "Yes, yes, I believe so," replied Mr. Heath, manifesting annoyance at being questioned. "I know nothing at all about him but what he says." This closed the conversation on that subject, but Mr. Heath's weak nerves were so shaken by the incident, that for several days after he remained at home, and refused any longer to accompany his daughter in her walks or rides. A fortnight or so later, Mrs. Applegate, who was reading the newspaper, incidentally remarked: "I see that they have caught that Peterson, the pirate." Mr. Heath, who was reclining in an easy-chair, started as if a bolt had struck him. "What! Who?" he exclaimed. "Dear me, Rufus, how you startled me! I merely said that that dreadful murderer that they called Peterson, the pirate, and who escaped from jail, has been caught. You must remember the time there was about it. It was a little after John's death. I remember there was a story going around that his name was not Peterson, but Klove, and that he formerly lived in Belton. Old Mrs. Cosgrove told me then that she remembered him very well, and that his mother was a washerwoman. She said, too, that he was a thief when a boy, and ran away to sea after robbing his master." "Mrs. Cosgrove is a silly gossip, Susan," said Mr. Heath, impatiently. "The boy was not a thief." "Indeed--why, Rufus, I heard from--" "Never mind; it's of no consequence, and we will not argue the matter," interrupted Mr. Heath. "Let me look at the paper a moment." * * * * *