"You do not regret?" he said, bending his head. "Regret, no," she answered, looking at him with loving eyes. "With you by my side, I fear nothing. Surely our hearts have been tried in the furnace of affliction, and our love has been chastened and purified." "We are sure of nothing in this world," replied Brian, with a sigh. "But after all the sorrow and grief of the past, let us hope that the future will be peace." "Peace!" A white-winged sea-gull rose suddenly from the crimson waters, and circled rapidly in the air above them. "A happy omen," she said, looking up fondly to the grave face of her husband, "for your life and for mine." He bent down and kissed her. The great steamer moved slowly out to sea, and as they stood on the deck, hand clasped in hand, with the fresh salt breeze blowing keenly in their faces, it bore them away into the placid beauty of the coming night, towards the old world and the new life. End of Project Gutenberg's The Mystery of a Hansom Cab, by Fergus Hume