Mrs. Kemble and her daughter exchanged an apprehensive glance and followed with the air of being prepared for the worst. The banker sat down and wiped the perspiration from his brow, then looked dubiously at the deeply anxious faces turned toward him. "Well," he said, "I'm going to tell you everything as far as I understand it. Now I want to see if you two can't listen calmly and quietly and not give way to useless feeling. There's much to be done, and you especially, Helen, must be in the right condition to do it." "Oh, papa, why torture me so? Something HAS happened to Hobart. I can't endure this suspense." "Something has happened to us all," replied her father, gravely. "Hobart has acted like a hero, like a saint; so must you. He is as well and able to go about as you are. I've seen him and talked with him." "He saw you and not me?" cried the girl, starting up. "Helen, I entreat, I command you to be composed and listen patiently. Don't you know him well enough to be sure he had good reasons--" "I can't imagine a reason," was the passionate reply, as she paced the floor. "What reason could keep me from him? Merciful Heaven! father, have you forgotten that I was to marry him to-day? Well," she added hoarsely, standing before him with hands clinched in her effort at self-restraint, "the reason?" "Poor fellow! poor fellow! he has not forgotten it," groaned Mr. Kemble. "Well, I might as well out with it. Suppose Captain Nichol was not killed after all?" Helen sank into a chair as if struck down as Nichol had been himself. "What!" she whispered; and her face was white indeed. Mrs. Kemble rushed to her husband, demanding, "Do you mean to tell us that Captain Nichol is alive?" "Yes; that's just the question we've got to face." "It brings up another question," replied his wife, sternly. "If he's been alive all this time, why did he not let us know? As far as I can make out, Hobart has found him in Washington--" "Helen," cried her father to the trembling girl, "for Heaven's sake, be calm!" "He's alive, ALIVE!" she answered, as if no other thought could exist in her mind. Her eyes were kindling, the color coming into her face, and her bosom throbbed quickly as if her heart would burst its bonds. Suddenly she rushed to her father, exclaiming, "He was the sick man. Oh, why did you not let me see him?" "Well, well!" ejaculated Mr. Kemble, "Hobart was right, poor fellow! Yes, Helen, Captain Nichol is the sick man, not dangerously ill, however. You are giving ample reason why you should not see him yet; and I tell you plainly you can't see him till you are just as composed as I am."