e body hurled over the railing, and he saw
the face of the murderer!

A flash of moonlight shone full upon it bending down, and he
recognized, in men's clothes, the woman who was to be his wife.

The assassin fled. As she vanished G. W. Parmalee looked up with a
hollow groan, remained irresolute for an instant, shook himself, and
took up the oars.

"We must pick up the body," he said, in an unearthly voice. "The waves
will wash it away in five minutes."

He rowed ashore, lifted the lifeless form, carried it into the boat,
and laid it across the mother's knee.

"We'll put for the 'Angelina,'" he observed. "If there's any life
left, we'll fetch her to there."

"Her heart beats," said Mrs. Denover, raining tears and kisses on the
cold face. "Oh, my child, my child! it is your wretched mother who has
done this!"

They reached the "Angelina Dobbs," where they were impatiently waited
for, and captain and crew stared aghast at sight of the supposed corpse.

"Do you take the 'Angelina Dobbs' for a cemetery, Mr. Parmalee?"
demanded Captain Dobbs, with asperity. "Who's that air corpse?"

"Come into the cabin and I'll tell you."

There he heard, in wonder and pity, the story.

"Poor creeter! Pretty as a picter, too! Who did the deed?"

"It looked like her husband," replied Mr. Parmalee. "He was as jealous
as a Turk, anyway."

"She is not dead!" exclaimed Mrs. Denover; "her heart flutters. Oh!
pray leave me alone with her; I think I know what to do."

The men quitted the cabin. Mrs. Denover removed her daughter's
clothing and examined the wound. It was deep and dangerous looking,
but not necessarily fatal--she knew that, and she had had considerable
experience during her rough life with John Thorndyke. She stanched the
flow of blood, bathed and dressed the wound, and finally the dark eyes
opened and looked vaguely in her face.

"Who are you? Where am I?" very feebly.

"I am your nurse," she said, tremulously, "and you are with friends who
love you."

"Ah! I remember." A look of intense anguish crossed her face. "You
are my mother!"

"Your most wretched mother! Oh, my darling, I am not worthy to look in
your face!"

"You are all that is left to me now--ah, Heaven pity me!--since he
thinks me guilty. I remember all. He tried to murder me; he called me
a name I will never forget. Mother, how came I here? Is this a ship?"

Very gently, softly, soothingly the mother told how Mr. Parmalee ha