wedded to such a scoundrel as Don Sebastian Alvaros. These were the bare outlines of the story, as told by Don Hermoso, but there were details of words said and deeds done that caused Jack Singleton to "see red", and to wonder how it was that a man, made in God's image, could ever become degraded to a condition so much lower than that of the beasts that perish; and how it was that such fiends in human form were permitted to live and to work their wicked will upon others. "However," he comforted himself by saying, "such atrocities as Senor Alvaros has committed do not go unpunished, and the time will come when he will wish that he had shot himself rather than yield to the suggestions of his own evil heart!" How truly he prophesied, and how awful was the retribution that was to fall upon Don Sebastian Alvaros, Jack little knew, otherwise it is possible that even his righteous anger might have been mitigated, his craving for vengeance drowned in the fountain of pity! CHAPTER FIFTEEN. RETRIBUTION. It was a trifle over thirty-six hours from the moment of the deliverance of Don Hermoso and his wife and son when the _Thetis_, brilliant in all the bravery of white enamel paint, gilt figurehead and ornamental scroll-work, freshly varnished boats, and scintillating brasswork, steamed into Guantanamo harbour and let go her anchor off the little town--or village, for it is scarcely more--of Caimamera. The visit of the yacht to this out-of-the-way spot was ostensibly for the purpose of enabling that erratic and irresponsible young Englishman, her owner, to enjoy a day or two's fishing, Guantanamo harbour being noted for the variety of fish with which its waters teem, and the excellent sport which they afford; but Jack's first act was to go ashore and pay an early visit to the telegraph office, from which he dispatched a cipher wire to Don Ramon Bergera, briefly acquainting that gentleman with the bare facts of the rescue and Dona Isolda's death. Then he allowed the crew to take a couple of boats and go fishing, while he devoted himself to the arduous task of comforting and consoling his friends as best he could; indeed, that had been his chief occupation from the moment when the Montijos had first come on board the yacht from the convict ship. Nor were his efforts altogether unavailing, although it was exceedingly difficult to find words of comfort for those whose hearts were still bleeding from the tragic loss of the being who was dearest to them all. With the Senora Montijo Jack was much more successful than with her husband and son, for the poor soul's reason was entirely gone, and to such an extent, indeed, that she seemed to have completely forgotten every circumstance connected with their recent misfortunes, appearing to merely remember Jack as someone with whom certain pleasant memories, vaguely recalled, were connected, and in whose society she therefore took pleasure. She very rarely spoke, never rationally, but was content