Like the craven coward he was, his eyes drooped before her stern gaze, and he slunk cringingly from her sight. A deep, shuddering sob burst from Dora Dupont’s pale lips as he disappeared. She clasped her hands upon her breast, as if to still the painful throbbings of her aching heart, while an expression of keenest agony swept over her beautiful face. “Heaven grant that it is nothing but a base calumny,” she murmured, as she paced to and fro. “But I fear it is all too true; still, it may be, he only did it to frighten me into becoming his wife—coward that he is, to threaten a weak woman! But Robbie, come weal or come woe, I am yours, and only yours, until my heart shall cease to beat.” A sweet smile dispersed the shade of anxiety that clouded her lovely face, as her thoughts flew over the seas to one whom she knew would yet claim her as his own. “Oh, heartless flirt that I am,” she continued, after a moment—“two offers in one night! The Fates defend me against another!” Saying which, she gracefully swept aside the heavy drapery, and appeared within the brilliantly lighted drawing-room again. * * * * * The following day a noble steamer sailed slowly down the harbor, laden with its precious weight of human freight. Hundreds were gathered upon its wide, clean decks, gazing back upon the gradually receding spires and domes of the great city. Among these, but standing apart by themselves, was a gay and joyous party, who seemed to have cast all care and trouble to the winds, and who were happy only in the present, and in anticipations of the future. Madame Alroyd and Dora, attended by their servants, were of this party; and our lovely heroine was laughing and chatting merrily, as if no sorrow had ever clouded her fair brow or dimmed the luster of her clear blue eye. She could not be still. Her gayety sparkled and bubbled forth in a continual stream of bright sayings and musical, silvery laughter, for was she not bound for the land that held her darling? And perhaps she might by some chance meet him there! It should be no fault of hers if she did not; and she knew their hearts would speak for themselves when that happy day should arrive; and she felt earth could hold no greater joy for her than to be again clasped to his loving, throbbing heart as in days of yore, and to feel that nothing earthly could ever again separate them. Many wondered at this bright, innocent beauty’s excessive life and joy that day, and many envious glances were drawn toward the group that was such a host of pleasure in itself. On the opposite side of the deck stood a man wrapped in a large traveling cloak, and with a hat slouched and drawn down over a pair of piercing black eyes. At his side stood another clad in like manner, only his hair was white, and he had a disagreeable stoop in his shoulders.