"How did you know I was here?" I asked, when the first embarra.s.sment was over, and she had taken a chair by my side.

"Papa saw it in the paper," she said, "and we immediately made inquiries."

"And you were forgiving enough to come and see me. Oh, Maud, how little I deserve it!"

"Hush, you mustn't talk like that. Of course I could not let you lie here without coming to you. Some people might be shocked at the idea of a young lady visiting a gentleman in a hospital. But I do what I think right myself. Now, the doctor tells me you are better, and will soon be able to come out. Directly you are ready, you must come to us."

"Come to you, Maud? Your father would never allow that."

"Papa wishes it as much as I do, so be quick and get well. I have such a lot to tell you, and messages to give you, Jack, from your poor dear mother. I was with her till the last."

"I guessed you would be. Poor mother!"

We were both silent for a minute, then I said--

"Maud, can you tell me one thing? How is the woman who was found in the room with me?"

"Dead, Jack. She died while the police were examining her this morning."

The shock was almost too much for me. It was some time before I could realize it.

"Dead? Oh, poor Juanita! Then her wish was gratified after all. She gave her life for mine. Maud, there is the end of a tragedy. Poor Juanita!"

"Don't think of it for the present, Jack. Wait till you are stronger. I must go soon, or the doctor will say I'm keeping you from getting well."

"Nonsense, your presence will do me more good than all his drugs put together. Forgive me one question."

"A hundred. What is this one?"

"Maud," I asked, almost afraid, "you are not married?"

She shook her head a little sadly, I thought. Oh, if I could only find the pluck to put another! I would try, at any rate.

"Maud, have you only come here in pity, or do you--do you----"

She must have divined what I meant, perhaps she read it in my eyes, for a great blush spread over her face, as she bent towards me and whispered--

"How cruel of you, Jack, to make me say it! I am here because I love you,--because I love you!"

My emotion was so great that I could not speak. My eyes overflowed with tears; I could feel them coursing down my cheeks. The doctor and nurse had taken the chaperon to the other end of the ward, and as I had a screen round my bed, we were quite alone. At last I found my voice.

"Maud," I faltered, "I am not worthy of you, my dear, I am not worthy.

You do not know what my life has been."

What she said in reply has no business here but I know that it acted on me like a magic potion. When she went away, I only let her go on the strict understanding that she should come again as soon as she could spare the time. After the door had closed on her it was as though all the sunshine had gone out of the ward; but she had left behind in my heart a greater happiness than I had ever known before, one that can never leave me again as long as I live to feel it.

A little later the doctor came to examine me. He was struck by the improvement in my condition.

"Why, man, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?" he asked.

"You're a hundred per cent. better than you were when I saw you last."

"Happiness, doctor," I answered. "I have had some news which has done me more good than anything your science could prescribe for me."

"It looks like it," he said, and went on to the next bed laughing.

But though my heart was full of joy because I knew that Maud still loved me, it was not unmixed with a feeling of sorrow. In the first place, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was not worthy of my darling's love; and in the second, how was I, a pauper, to ask her to be my wife? My fortune, if it had ever been a fortune, had been stolen from me, and even if I returned to my old profession, the sea, I should stand but a poor chance of ever making enough to justify me in asking Sir Benjamin for her hand. Consideration of these things was, however, postponed for the present by the arrival of the police and a magistrate, to take my deposition for use at the inquest on poor Juanita's body. She, brave soul, had sacrificed herself for me, and it should go hard if any exertion on my part should be wanting to bring her murderer to justice.

In the evening I had the satisfaction of hearing that a verdict of wilful murder had been returned against John Macklin, and that a warrant was already out for his arrest.

By special favour, Maud was permitted to see me every other day, until I was in a condition to be moved. When that happy moment arrived, she herself came to escort me. The carriage was at the great hospital door, and in it we set out for Holland Park.

When we reached the house, who should open the door but Sir Benjamin himself! His welcome could not have been more cordial had I been his own son returning after an absence of many years. On his arm I entered the house, tenderly watched by Maud. We pa.s.sed into the drawing-room, and I was soon seated in a comfortable chair before the fire.

"Sit yourself down, my dear boy," Sir Benjamin said, "and you'll just take a gla.s.s of wine and a biscuit before you do another thing. I prescribe it myself, and surely I ought to know. Hum, ha! Maud, my dear, G.o.d bless you."

I never remember having seen Sir Benjamin so much affected before. Tears stood in his eyes, and his hand trembled so violently that it was as much as he could do to pour out the wine for me. Dear old man, I had always misjudged his affection for myself, though why he should have felt any was a thing which, personally, I could never understand.

It was not till after lunch that I got an opportunity of a private conversation with him. Then, as I had made up my mind I would, I told him my whole story, from the time of my leaving England on my last voyage, up to the present moment. As my yarn progressed, I was alarmed at the change in his face. From its usual rosy hue its colour pa.s.sed to an extraordinary pallor, and when I reached the account of my scene with Juanita, and my attempted a.s.sa.s.sination, with the robbery of the locket, I thought he would have fainted. He gasped--

"You say that Marmaduke, my nephew, gave you that locket containing the piece of paper?"

"Yes, and bound me by a promise that I would not open it till I had been a month in London."

"Then, John, G.o.d forgive me, I have done you an awful injury. I have, unconsciously it is true, robbed you of 200,000!"

"What!" I cried, in my turn astonished by his words. "What had you to do with that affair?"

"I was the custodian of it; my nephew sent it home to me from Chili to keep for him, with the proviso that if ever he should send a messenger for it, bearing a certain piece of paper, I should give him whatever amount, even up to the entire sum, he should ask of me."

"And that messenger?"

"Came the same day that we heard of your accident, and brought the sc.r.a.p of paper; he said my nephew was in great danger, and wanted his money immediately; he took away my cheque for 200,000 and acc.u.mulated interest, and, as I have found out by inquiry, cashed it the same morning. By this time he has probably left the country!"

"What was he like, this messenger?"

"Well, he was the most extraordinary little man I ever set eyes on. He was a deformed Albino."

"The Albino! Then you've seen the murderer--the man who killed Juanita, and attempted to do the same for me."

"Good heavens! What's to be done now?"

"Nothing that I can see. The police are searching high and low for him.

We can't recover the money, for we haven't the vestige of a right to it.

You must remember it was to be the property of whosoever brought you the paper. The Albino brought it, and he has got it. We must grin and bear our loss. You are not a bit to blame, Sir Benjamin."

I saw that he felt he had injured me, and to try and drive the subject from his mind, I spoke to him of my views regarding Maud. In a second he was another man.

"Jack, my boy, G.o.d bless you for that idea! My carelessness, though certainly I did not know any better, has deprived you of great wealth; now I can make up for it. You love Maud. Maud has never wavered in her affection for you. I'm not going to ask what your life has been since you left us, because I trust to your honour not to ask me for my girl if there's anything against it. On the point of money we'll split the difference, and on your wedding-day I'll make you a present of a cheque for 100,000. Will that suit you?"

"No, Sir Benjamin, I cannot let you do it. If when I'm strong enough you'll help me to some appointment which will enable me to support Maud in a proper manner, I should be just as grateful. But I can't take your money in compensation for what was not your fault."