“I nearly betrayed myself then, for I was about rushing forward to clasp you in my arms, when I remembered that you would not know me, for I had disguised myself so that your brother should not recognize me until I had sounded him, and found out where my boy was. So I resolved to listen to what passed between you. I crouched among the bushes, and there remained until you fled from the place; then, when the heartless man followed, I showed myself, and half cajoled, half threatened him, into hiring me to steal those pictures from you. “He engaged me, and I immediately followed you, saw you when you fainted, picked you up, took you into a cab, and while we were being driven to a house where I knew you would find kind attention, I took the locket from your bosom, leaving a fifty-dollar bill in its place, together with a few words, telling you to go to the post-office in a fortnight. “Oh! how I longed to wait until you revived, and tell you all. But I resolved that I would not reveal myself until I could bring you the proof of our marriage. “I knew well enough that your brother had stolen it, and I felt assured I could get it from him before many weeks passed. But I followed him from place to place, never gaining the opportunity I sought. “At length he left the country, and I, determined not to be thwarted, immediately followed. I have at last succeeded in my efforts, and here is our marriage certificate, proving beyond a doubt that you are my lawful wife. I got discouraged many and many a time, and once went to the house where I had taken you when you fainted, but you were gone, and had left no address behind you, so I lost track of you, though I did not cease to blame myself for leaving you so long in ignorance of the true state of affairs. I ought to have gone to you in the beginning, and thus saved you all these years of suffering. Can you—will you forgive me, that I did not?” She smiled, and sealed his forgiveness with a kiss as he bent over her; then said, eagerly: “But the pictures, Alf; where are they? You did not give them to him?” He too smiled as she uttered the old, fond name, and replied: “I took them to an artist, had them faithfully copied, then had another brooch made exactly like the original, and carried it to your scheming brother, who immediately threw it into the fire. But here is the original, safe and uninjured for you.” He drew it from his bosom, unfastened from his neck the chain to which he had it attached, and clasped it around her own. She seized it with eager, trembling fingers, opened it, and gazed with tender, tearful eyes upon the faces within. Then turning to her husband, she wailed: “But, Alfred, where is our boy? Oh! I have not seen him since I left him long years ago in Naples, though I begged and pleaded with my brother to take me to him.” There was a look of pain upon Alfred Ellerton’s fine face as he raised his eyes and glanced around upon the group in front of them.