On our way to the doctor's I noted the presence of a number of Islonians among the foreigners, who were trooping into the settlement from their day's work afield, and some of them looked curiously at me. Scarce a word passed between me and the maid, for she had some ado to keep up with my long stride. But when she threw open the door of Anna's sitting-room, she found breath to say demurely, "Mr. Vavasour." I had had some shrinking under my eagerness to see my love, lest my scarred face, still partly striped with plaister, should give her fright; but there was no sign of that in her beautiful eyes, as she stood waiting for me as near as might be, with allowance of room for the opening of the door, and with a low, soft cry of pity such as mothers use, she came into my arms. After the long embrace of welcome, she held me off, looking into my face some seconds, and then smiling through her tears, called me her brave soldier, her hero, and I know not what, asking a hundred questions, and laughing and crying in a breath, until the only thing I knew was that she was the loveliest woman in the world, and I the happiest of all men to have her love. At length I remembered I kept her standing, and drew her to a chair, kneeling beside her, and she touched my ugly face softly with her lips, and then broke into a gentle rain of tears. Before we had time to talk together, Martha rapped at the door, announcing supper. We sat long at table, for the doctor, forgetting his studies awhile, asked many questions as I told my tale, and that was long enough. When I came to relate how Mr. Ulceby had befriended me, Anna could not speak her gratitude, but it shone so brightly in her face that the good man answered her-- "The happiness is on my side, Mistress Goel. I am repaid a hundred-fold for such service as I trust any man would have rendered who happened to have the ability." She governed the swelling in her throat so far as to rejoin-- "Methinks the good Samaritan would have said much the same." Supper ended, and the main of my story told, Mr. Ulceby pleaded weariness as a reason for going off to his quarters, whither we went with him, Anna being wishful to assure herself nothing was omitted for his comfort. When we had left him we paced to and fro under the starry sky in talk of the future. Anna did not approve of my entering Mr. Ulceby's service.