“No,” said she, with a simplicity that filled my heart with confidence. For my wife was the bravest as well as the best of women; in my experience, I have not found the two go always together, but with her they did; and she combined the extreme of fortitude with the most endearing and beautiful virtues. I told her what had happened; and, though her cheek grew visibly paler, she retained perfect control over her senses. “You see now that I am safe,” said I, in conclusion. “They do not mean to harm me; for, had they chosen, I was a dead man last night.” She laid her hand upon my arm. “And I had no presentiment!” she cried. Her accent thrilled me with delight. I put my arm about her, and strained her to my side; and, before either of us was aware, her hands were on my shoulders and my lips upon her mouth. Yet up to that moment no word of love had passed between us. To this day I remember the touch of her cheek, which was wet and cold with the rain; and many a time since, when she has been washing her face, I have kissed it again for the sake of that morning on the beach. Now that she is taken from me, and I finish my pilgrimage alone, I recall our old lovingkindnesses and the deep honesty and affection which united us, and my present loss seems but a trifle in comparison. We may have thus stood for some seconds—for time passes quickly with lovers—before we were startled by a peal of laughter close at hand. It was not natural mirth, but seemed to be affected in order to conceal an angrier feeling. We both turned, though I still kept my left arm about Clara’s waist; nor did she seek to withdraw herself; and there, a few paces off upon the beach, stood Northmour, his head lowered, his hands behind his back, his nostrils white with passion. “Ah! Cassilis!” he said, as I disclosed my face. “That same,” said I; for I was not at all put about. “And so, Miss Huddlestone,” he continued slowly but savagely, “this is how you keep your faith to your father and to me? This is the value you set upon your father’s life? And you are so infatuated with this young gentleman that you must brave ruin, and decency, and common human caution—” “Miss Huddlestone—” I was beginning to interrupt him, when he, in his turn, cut in brutally— “You hold your tongue,” said he; “I am speaking to that girl.” “That girl, as you call her, is my wife,” said I; and my wife only leaned a little nearer, so that I knew she had affirmed my words. “Your what?” he cried. “You lie!” “Northmour,” I said, “we all know you have a bad temper, and I am the last man to be irritated by words. For all that, I propose that you speak lower, for I am convinced that we are not alone.” He looked round him, and it was plain my remark had in some degree sobered his passion. “What do you mean?” he asked. I only said one word: “Italians.” He swore a round oath, and looked at us, from one to the other. “Mr. Cassilis knows all that I know,” said my wife.