"Of course," answered the Captain, "and once you find out his real name you'll soon find the wife." "And then?" Templeton shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, then you'll have to prove the truth of his story to you." "But if I find out all about her, the stiletto will have to be put in evidence." "Of course," answered Templeton; "and that you can get from the authorities at Gibraltar, in whose hands I placed it." "I have a letter of introduction to the son of an old friend of my father," said Ronald; "he is a barrister, of the Middle Temple." "Oh--young?" "About thirty." "The very man," replied Templeton rising, "go and see him and tell him all about it; if he's anxious to make a mark in the world----" "Which he hasn't done yet," interjected Ronald. "He'll go in for this case; gad, I wish I could go into it myself; I ought to have been a private detective." "Well," said Ronald, as they went out on to the deck; "I came for a pleasure trip, but it looks as if I shall have to work all the time." "Yes, but think of the time you will have of it putting this puzzle together," replied Templeton, "it will be most exciting; besides, if you bring this crime home you'll get your reward; if not on earth, at least in heaven." "I'd rather have it on earth," said Ronald, thinking of Carmela. CHAPTER VII. THE END OF THE VOYAGE. There is no sadder word in the English language than "Farewell." How many quivering lips have said it with breaking hearts and scalding tears--the soldier marching away with flying banners and martial music--the emigrant sitting on deck, seeing the blue hills of the land of his birth fading away in the shadows of the night--the young man going forth into the world, and turning once more to see through tear-dimmed eyes the old house where he was born, and the lovers parting--never to meet again. Yes it is a sad word, and has caused more tears and heart-aches than any we use. Now that the voyage was coming to an end, those who had been in close companionship for nearly six weeks, knew that they must separate in a short time and, that the memory of the pleasant company on board the "Neptune" would soon be only a dream of the past. No wonder then, that as the steamer glided up the Thames, everyone was a little melancholy. The voyage from Gibraltar had been pleasant. They had seen the famous Trafalgar Bay, where Nelson won his Waterloo--passed Cape St. Vincent in the night--caught a glimpse of the mouth of the Tagus in the early morning, and steamed safely through the Bay of Biscay, which did not act up to the reputation gained for it by the song, but was as calm as a mill-pond. On arriving at Plymouth, some of the passengers had gone to London by rail, in preference to facing the chance of a collision in the English Channel. It was Ronald's first glimpse of England, and Chester, who was very patriotic, asked him what he thought of it?