and I shall be no more. No, no, dear friend, Iappreciate the kindness of your motives in trying to cheer me, but myhopes of happiness are now centred in the Far Beyond."

  If a man in his terrible position could ever be said to experiencepleasure at all, Reginald did when the four honest sailors came to seehim, as they never failed to do, daily. Theirs was heart-felt pity.Their remarks might have been a little rough, but they were kindlymeant, and the consolation they tried to give was from the heart.

  "How is it with you by this time?" McGregor said one day. "You mustn'tmope, ye know."

  "Dear Mac," replied Reginald, "there is no change, except that thevoyage will soon be at an end, just as my voyage of life will."

  "Now, sir, I won't have that at all. Me and my mates here have made upour minds, and we believe you ain't guilty at all, and that they dursn'tstring you up on the evidence that will go before the jury."

  "I fear not death, anyhow, Mac. Indeed, I am not sure that I might notsay with Job of old, `I prefer strangling rather than life.'"

  "Keep up your pecker, sir; never say die; and don't you think about it.We'll come and see you to-morrow again. Adoo."

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  Yes, the voyage was coming to a close, and a very uneventful one it hadbeen. When the mountains of California at last hove in sight, andSkipper Neaves informed Reginald that they would get in to-morrow night,he was rather pleased than otherwise. But Matty was now in deepestgrief. This strange child clung around his neck and cried at thethoughts of it.

  "Oh, I shall miss you, I shall miss you!" she said. "And you can't takepoor Matty with you?"

  And now, to console her, he was obliged to tell her what might have beencalled a white lie, for which he hoped to be forgiven.

  "But Matty must not mourn; we shall meet again," he said. "And perhapsI may take Matty with me on a long cruise, and we shall see the Queen ofthe Isle of Flowers once more, and you and dear Oscar, your beautifulNewfoundland, shall play together, and romp just as in the happy days ofyore. Won't it be delightful, dear?"

  Matty smiled through her tears, only drawing closer to Reginald's breastas she did.

  "Poor dear doggy Oscar?" she said. "He will miss you so much?"

  "Yes, darling; his wistful, half-wondering glance I never can forget.He seemed to refuse to believe that I could possibly leave him, and theglance of love and sorrow in the depths of his soft brown eyes I shallremember as long as I live."

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  The first to come on board when the vessel got in was Mr Hall himselfand Ilda. The girl was changed in features, somewhat thinner, paler,and infinitely more sad-looking. But with loving abandon she threwherself into Reginald's arms and wept.

  "Oh, dear," she cried, "how sadly it has all ended!" Then shebrightened up a little. "We--that is, father and I--are going to Italyfor the winter, and I may get well, and we may meet again. God inHeaven bless you, Reginald!"

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  Then the sad partings. I refuse to describe them. I would rather mystory were joyful than otherwise, and so I refrain.

  It was a long, weary journey that to New York, but it ended at last, andReginald found himself a prisoner on board the _B--Castle_ bound forBritain's far-off shores.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

  MEETING AND PARTING.

  Reginald was infinitely more lonely now and altogether more of aprisoner too. Neither Captain Dickson nor the four sailors returned bythe same ship, so, with the exception of the detective, who really was akind-hearted and feeling man, he had no one to converse with.

  He was permitted to come up twice a day and walk the deck forward by wayof exercise, but a policeman always hovered near. If the truth must betold, he would have preferred staying below. The passengers werechiefly Yankees on their way to London Paris, and the Riviera, but assoon as he appeared there was an eager rush forward as far as midships,and as he rapidly paced the deck, the prisoner was as cruelly criticisedas if he had been some show animal or wild beast. It hurt Reginald nota little, and more than once during his exercise hour his cheeks wouldburn and tingle with shame.

  When he walked forward as far as the winch, he turned and walked aftagain, and it almost broke his heart--for he dearly loved children--tosee those on the quarter-deck clutch their mothers' skirts, or hidebehind them screaming.

  "Oh, ma, he's coming--the awful man is coming?"

  "He isn't so terrible-looking, is he, auntie?" said a beautiful younggirl one day, quite aloud, too.

  "Ah, child, but remember what he has done. Even a tiger can look softand pleasant and beautiful at times."

  "Well," said another lady, "he will hang as high as Haman, anyhow!"

  "And richly deserves it," exclaimed a sour-looking, scraggy old maid."I'm sure I should dearly like to see him strung. He won't walk soboldly along the scaffold, I know, and his face will be a trifle whiterthen!"

  "Woman!" cried an old white-haired gentleman, "you ought to be downrightashamed of yourself, talking in that manner in the hearing of thatunfortunate man; a person of your age might know just a little better!"The old maid tossed her yellow face. "And let me add, madam, that butfor God's grace and mercy you might occupy a position similar to his.Good-day, miss!"

  There was a barrier about the spot where the quarter-deck and midshipsjoined. Thus far might steerage passengers walk aft, but no farther.To this barrier Reginald now walked boldly up, and, while the ladies forthe most part backed away, as if he had been a python, and the childrenrushed screaming away, the old gentleman kept where he was.

  "God bless you, sir," said Reginald, loud enough for all to hear, "fordefending me. The remarks those unfeeling women make in my hearingpierce me to the core."

  "And God bless you, young man, and have mercy on your soul." He heldout his hand, and Reginald shook it heartily. "I advise you, MrGrahame, to make your peace with God, for I cannot see a chance for you.I am myself a New York solicitor, and have studied your case over andover again."

  "I care not how soon death comes. My hopes are yonder," said Reginald.

  He pointed skywards as he spoke.

  "That's good. And remember:

  "`While the lamp holds out to burn, The greatest sinner may return.'

  "I'll come and see you to-morrow."

  "A thousand thanks, sir. Good-day."

  Mr Scratchley, the old solicitor, was as good as his word, and the twosat down together to smoke a couple of beautiful Havana cigars, verylarge and odorous. The tobacco seemed to soothe the young man, and hetold Scratchley his story from beginning to end, and especially did heenlarge on the theory of somnambulism. This, he believed, was his onlyhope. But Scratchley cut him short.

  "See here, young man; take the advice of one who has spent his life atthe Bar. Mind, I myself am a believer in spiritualism, but keep thatsomnambulism story to yourself. I must speak plainly. It will belooked upon by judge and jury as cock-and-bull, and it will assuredly doyou more harm than good. Heigho!" he continued. "From the bottom of myheart I pity you. So young, so handsome. Might have been so happy andhopeful, too! Well, good-bye. I'll come again."

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  Mr Scratchley was really a comfort to Reginald. But now the voyage wasdrawing near its close. They had passed the isles of Bute and Arran,and had entered on the wild, romantic beauties of the Clyde.

  It was with a feeling of utter sadness and gloom, however, that theprisoner beheld them. Time was when they would have delighted hisheart. Those days were gone, and the darkness was all ahead. The gladsunshine sparkled in the wavelets, and, wheeling hither and thither,with half-hysterical screams of joy, were the white-winged, free, andhappy gulls; but in his present condition of mind things the mostbeautiful saddened him the most.

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  Two days are past and gone, and Reginald is now immured in gaol to awaithis trial. It was lightsome and comfortable, and he had books to read,and a small, cheerful fire. He had exercise also in the yard, and eventhe gaolers talked kindly enough to him; but all the same he was aprisoner.

  His greatest trial had yet to come--the meeting with--ah! yes, and theparting from--Annie--his Annie--Annie o' the Banks o' Dee.

  One day came a letter from her, which, though it had been opened andread by the authorities, was indeed a sweet boon to him. He read itover and over again, lover-like. It burned with affection and love, alove that time and absence had failed to quench. But