"Only you should know the story of my life!" She handed him the letter which had been Arthur Ferris' eternal farewell to the woman who had never even borne his name. He started forward, with arms extended, as he read that last message from beyond the sea. "It means that I am to keep your innocent secret!" "There is nothing hidden now," the loving woman shyly said. "IT MEANS THAT YOU ARE NOT TO GO!" They were still tranced there in their happiness when the silver bells chimed out again. The ruddy fire-light lit up their faces, glowing with the hidden love which had at last found its voice as the shadow of parting fell upon them. "Auf wiederschen, dearest heart!" cried Atwater. "We will lead the noble life together, please God, to the end!" "Hand in hand, and heart to heart," whispered the loving woman, whose happy eyes saw no cloud of the past now lowering upon her. And, even in the flush of the new-born joy she was true to her solemn vow. "No shame rests upon my father's name," she murmured, that night, in her prayers. "The works that men do live after them, and in his name I will build up a monument of good works over the tomb where the secret of his life's temptation lies buried with him." The gleaming stars shone down tenderly upon the happy lover speeding homeward, for the bells of joy were ringing in his awakened heart. "I must try and get these glad tidings to our wanderers abroad," mused Atwater. And this, stripped of some merely personal happenings, with a gracious confirmation by Alice, was the budget of good news which greeted the Witherspoons on their arrival at Calcutta. "Jack!" joyously cried Madame Francine, "I have only been waiting for this official confirmation for some months. Alice writes me to hasten back so as to be the star guest of the coming wedding." "I have had a firm faith also," drily rejoined her husband, "that in due time Alice's field of philanthropy would enlarge itself to include our friend. And so, it's all well that ends well! Here's for home, then, when you will!" [THE END.] End of Project Gutenberg's The Midnight Passenger, by Richard Henry Savage