Captain Lake knew something of feminine paroxysms. Rachel was not given to hysterics. He knew this burst of anguish was unaffected. He was rather glad of it. When it was over he expected clearer weather and a calm. So he waited, saying now and then a soothing word or two. 'There--there--there, Radie--there's a good girl. Never mind--there--there.' And between whiles his mind, which, in truth, had a good deal upon it, would wander and pursue its dismal and perplexed explorations, to the unheard accompaniment of her sobs. He went to the door, but it was not to call for water, or for old Tamar. On the contrary, it was to observe whether she or the girl was listening. But the house, though small, was built with thick partition walls, and sounds were well enclosed in the rooms to which they belonged. With Rachel this weakness did not last long. It was a gust--violent--soon over; and the 'o'er-charged' heart and brain were relieved. And she pushed open the window, and stood for a moment in the chill air, and sighed, and whispered a word or two over the closing flowers of her little garden toward the darkening glen, and with another great sigh closed the window, and returned. 'Can I do anything, Radie? You're better now. I knew you would be. Shall I get some water from your room?' 'No, Stanley; no, thank you. I'm very well now,' she said, gently. 'Yes, I think so. I knew you'd be better.' And he patted her shoulder with his soft hand; and then followed a short silence. 'I wish you were more pleasantly lodged, Radie; but we can speak of that another time.' 'Yes--you're right. This place is dreadful, and its darkness dreadful; but light is still more dreadful now, and I think I'll change; but, as you say, there is time enough to think of all that.' 'Quite so--time enough. By-the-bye, Radie, you mentioned our old servant, whom my father thought so highly of--Jim Dutton--the other evening. I've been thinking of him, do you know, and I should like to find him out. He was a very honest fellow, and attached, and a clever fellow, too, my father thought; and _he_ was a good judge. Hadn't you a letter from his mother lately? You told me so, I think; and if it is not too much trouble, dear Radie, would you allow me to see it?' Rachel opened her desk, and silently selected one of those clumsy and original missives, directed in a staggering, round hand, on paper oddly shaped and thick, such as mixes not naturally with the aristocratic fabric, on which crests and ciphers are impressed, and placed it in her brother's hand. 'But you can't read it without light,' said Rachel. 'No; but there's no hurry. Does she say where she is staying, or her son?' 'Both, I think,' answered Rachel, languidly; 'but he'll never make a servant for you--he's a rough creature, she says, and was a groom. You can't remember him, nor I either.' 'Perhaps--very likely;' and he put the letter in his pocket.