if we were facing a strange
snake, he may do us harm, and we must look out for ourselves. Really,
that is all I can say about the matter."

By this time the port boat had come up to the wharf. Mr. Tiffany bade
me good night, and hastened up the pier. I was not satisfied, as he had
suggested. He suspected Cornwood of something, but he did not even say
what, much less give me the grounds for his suspicion. But I could
obtain no more, and went into the boat. In a few minutes I was on the
deck of the steamer. My supper was all ready, and I was obliged to
attend to it before I looked at my letters.

My state-room was lighted, and I was by myself. At last I was alone
with my letters. Washburn was on the forward deck, discussing the
condition of the South with Griffin Leeds. I took out the two letters
from my father. Both of them were mailed in London, though my father's
home was in Shalford, Essex, about fifty miles from the great city. One
was postmarked December 15th, and the other January 2d. I opened the
one of the earliest date.

It was written immediately after his return to England from India. He
had received no letters or intelligence of any kind from me for many
months. He had been so worried about me that he could hardly stay to
complete his business in India. He found nothing from me on his arrival
at his home, nothing at the office of his solicitor, to whom all my
letters had been forwarded, in London. He wrote that he found Mr.
Carrington had gone to America, and his office was in charge of his
confidential clerk.

I understood it all. This clerk must have destroyed all my letters to
my father as soon as they reached the office, as he had been instructed
to do by his employer. I felt sick at heart when I realized the
distress of my father at getting no tidings from me. But since I sailed
on this cruise from Detroit, six months before, I had supposed he was
dead, and of course I wrote no letters to him.

I took up the second letter, expecting to read more of my father's
despair on account of my long silence. I opened it: it was bright and
cheerful as the first was gloomy and despondent. He had received my
"welcome letter of December 4th," which I had written at Jacksonville,
after the discovery of all the details of the conspiracy against me. I
had written a full account of the matter, with the history of the
voyage up to that date. It was after Colonel Shepard's house had been
damaged by fire, and the West