"`No indeed,' she said, while tears filled her eyes, `but work failed us in London, where we once lived, and mother came to Liverpool to a brother, who said he would help her, but he died soon after our arrival, and then mother got ill and I had to begin and spend our savings--savings that darling mother had scraped and toiled so hard to gain--and this made her much worse, for she was _so_ anxious to save money!' "This last remark reminded me of the reports about the mother's miserly nature, so I asked a question that made the poor girl reply quickly-- "`Oh! you mustn't think that darling mother is a miser. People so often fall into that mistake! She has been saving for ever so many years to buy father back--' "`Buy father back!' I repeated, with a sudden start. "`Yes, to buy him from the Algerine pirates--' "I waited for no more, but, running to the bedside, looked the poor woman steadily in the face. There could be no doubt about it. There was the fair hair, blue eyes, and clear complexion, though the last was sadly faded from ill-health. "You should have seen the look of surprise she gave me. But I had been foolishly precipitate. Her mind had been wandering a little before we came in. The shock seemed to throw it further off the balance, for she suddenly looked at me with a calm sweet smile. "`Yes,' she said, `he always called me Marie, though my name was Mary, being a Frenchman, you know--his little Marie he called me! I often think how pleased he will be to see another little Marie grown big when we get him back--but oh! how long--how _long_ they are about sending him, though I have sent the money over and over again. Hush!' "She looked round with a terrified expression and clutched my shawl with her thin hand. `You won't tell, will you?' she went on; `you have a kind face, I am sure you will not tell, but I have been saving--saving--saving, to send more money to the Moors. I keep it in a bag here under my pillow, but I often fear that some one will discover and steal it. Oh! these Moors must have hard, hard hearts to keep him from me so long--so _very_ long!' "Here she thrust me from her with unexpected violence, burst into a wild laugh, and began in her delirium to rave against the Moors. Yet, even in the midst of her reproaches, the poor thing prayed that God would soften their hearts and forgive her for being so revengeful. "Now, mother, I want to know what is to be done, for when we sent for a doctor he said that not a word must be said about the return of her husband until she is out of danger and restored to some degree of health." Thus far the middy read the letter.