"De doctor brings most important information, missus," put in old Ben, who was almost exploding to tell what he knew. "Is that so?" cried Mrs. Ruthven. "What is it?" "I came to speak to you about yonder wreck on Hemlock Bluff rocks," said the surgeon. "The sight of that wreck has taken me back to the affairs of about eleven years ago." "So you were--you knew of it at that time, sir?" "Yes, I was one of the passengers on the ship, madam." "A passenger! I thought all of the passengers were drowned,--I mean all but those who came ashore here." "I was not drowned. I was swept overboard before our ship came into the bay, and clung to a spar for hours, until the storm abated. Then a ship bound for Cuba came along and took me on board and carried me to Havana. The shock and the exposure were too much for me, and when I recovered physically the authorities at the hospital adjudged me insane, and I was placed in an asylum for years. Slowly my reason returned to me, and at last I left the island of Cuba and came to the Southern States. This was shortly after the war had broken out, and, knowing nothing else to do, I offered my services to General Lee, and was accepted and placed in the hospital corps." "But why did you not come here before?" "I could not tell exactly where the ship had stranded, and did not hear of the wreck on Hemlock Bluff rocks until about three weeks ago. Then I determined to make an investigation. I have now visited the wreck and have learned positively that it is that of the ship upon which myself, my wife, and our little son took passage." "Yourself, your wife, and your little son," repeated Mrs. Ruthven, and then of a sudden her breast began to heave. "Your wife and son were with you?" "Yes, madam." "Wha--what was your little son's name?" she faltered, hardly able to go on. "Jack." "By golly, he must be our Jack's fadder!" burst out Old Ben. "Now don't dat beat de nation!" "Jack! No! no! You--you cannot be our Jack's father!" cried Mrs. Ruthven. "I understand you are very much attached to the boy," went on Dr. Mackey smoothly. "It is a pity. Yes, he is truly my son." The tears came into Mrs. Ruthven's eyes, but she hastily brushed them away. "Jack does not look much like you," she declared. "That is true, but he bears a strong resemblance to my dead brother Walter, and that is what made me certain he is my son. I saw him in town a day or two ago, although he did not see me." "This is very strange." The lady hardly knew how to go on. The thought that she might have to give up Jack was a bitter one. "Have you spoken to Jack yet?" "No. Isn't he here?" "No, he went for a boat race, against his cousin, St. John Ruthven--I mean my nephew," she stammered. "Do you expect him back soon?" "I do not believe he will be gone more than an hour or so." "Then I will wait." "Of course, Dr. Mackey. Will you come into the house?"