obtained possession of the yacht, for I knew that its contents
would go far towards indemnifying his partner for his losses. At my
request, the officers took the prisoner to Mr. Collingsby's house.
Marian and I went in one carriage, while the officers, with Mr.
Whippleton, occupied the other.

"I tremble when I think of meeting my father," said my fair companion.

"You need not. He will be too glad to see you safe and sound to find
any fault with you."

"I have been very imprudent."

"I know you have; but you meant no wrong. You are fortunate to be able
to return as you are, for Mr. Waterford is a bankrupt, and a mere
adventurer."

"My father was right."

"Fathers are almost always right," I replied, as the carriage stopped
before the house.

I found that Marian was trembling violently when I helped her out. We
were admitted to the library. Mrs. Collingsby was up, but her husband
had not risen yet. The fond mother folded her lost daughter in her
arms, and they wept together.

"Let me call your father," said she, leaving the room hastily.

"You will have a glad welcome from both of your parents, Marian," I
added.

"My mother will not reproach me," said she, as Mrs. Collingsby
returned.

"Where have you been?" inquired the anxious mother, as she took the
hand of her weeping daughter.

"I was deceived, mother."

"But where is Mr. Waterford?"

"I don't know; I have not seen him since day before yesterday."

Mr. Collingsby appeared in a few moments in his dressing-gown, and had
evidently made a very hasty toilet.

"Marian!" exclaimed he, with a degree of emotion of which I had not
supposed him capable.

"My poor child! How anxious I have been about you! for that Waterford
is a scoundrel."

"I know he is, father. You were right," replied Marian, as she sobbed
upon his bosom.

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know."

Mr. Collingsby winked very rapidly; but as it was not dignified to
weep, he did not do so. He glanced at me, and he must have suspected
that I saw his emotion. He was evidently ashamed of it, for he gently
disengaged himself from his daughter's embrace, and fixed his stern
gaze upon me.

"So you have come back, Philips?" said he.

"Yes, sir, I have come back. I had business here, and I took the
liberty to call."

"Where have you been, sir?"

"After Mr. Whippleton."

"So I thought," sneered he. "I suppose it would not suit your purpose
to inform me where he is now."

"On the co