“But I must go and bear my lot among those you strike; I will wait on among them, sharing their infamy and their fate. When your blow falls I will not turn away. I will think of those dear ones of yours who have suffered, and for their sakes will accept the blow of revenge.” Brandon had held her hand in silence, and with a convulsive pressure during these words. As she stopped she made a faint effort to withdraw it. He would not let her. He raised it to his lips and pressed it there. Three times he made an effort to speak, and each time failed. At last, with a strong exertion, he uttered, in a hoarse voice and broken tones, “Oh, Beatrice! Beatrice! how I love you!” “I know it,” said she, in the same monotone which she had used before--a tone of infinite mournfulness--“I have known it long, and I would say also, ‘Louis Brandon, I love you,’ if it were not that this would be the last infamy; that you, Brandon, of Brandon Hall, should be loved by one who bears my name.” The hours of the night passed away. They stood watching the English shores, speaking little. Brandon clung to her hand. They were sailing up the Thames. It was about four in the morning. “We shall soon be there,” said he; “sing to me for the last time. Sing, and forget for a moment that we must part.” Then, in a low voice, of soft but penetrating tones, which thrilled through every fibre of Brandon’s being. Beatrice began to sing: “Love made us one: our unity Is indissoluble by act of thine, For were this mortal being ended, And our freed spirits in the world above, Love, passing o’er the grave, would join us there, As once he joined us here: And the sad memory of the life below Would but unite as closer evermore. No act of thine may loose Thee from the eternal bond, Nor shall Revenge have power To disunite us _there_!” On that same day they landed in London. The Governor’s lady at Sierra Leone had insisted on replenishing Beatrice’s wardrobe, so that she showed no appearance of having gone through the troubles which had afflicted her on sea and shore. Brandon took her to a hotel and then went to his agent’s. He also examined the papers for the last four months. He read in the morning journals a notice which had already appeared of the arrival of the ship off the Nore, and the statement that three of the passengers of the _Falcon_ had reached Sierra Leone. He communicated to the owners of the _Falcon_ the particulars of the loss of the ship, and earned their thanks, for they were able to get their insurance without waiting a year, as is necessary where nothing is heard of a missing vessel. He traveled with Beatrice by rail and coach as far as the village of Brandon. At the inn he engaged a carriage to take her up to her father’s house. It was Brandon Hall, as he very well knew.