, pleasantly.

"Why, yes, now I remember you. You're Maggie."

"Yes," replied the girl. "Don't you recollect--in the mission-school?
Don't you recollect you married me and Larry? That's two years ago." She
almost laughed out with pleasure.

"And where's Larry?"

"Why, don't you recollect? He's on the sloop-o'-war _Preble_." Then she
added more gravely: "I aint seen him in twenty months. But I know he's
all right. I aint a-scared about _that_--only if he's alive and well;
yes, sir. Well, good-evenin', sir. Yes, sir; I think I'll come to the
mission nex' Sunday--and I'll bring the baby, will I? All right, sir.
Well, so long, sir. Take care of yourself, sir."

What a word that was! It echoed in his ear all the way home: "Take care
of _yourself_." What boast is there for the civilization that refines
away the unconscious heroism of the unfriended poor?

He was glad he had not told Richling all his little secret. But Richling
found it out later from Dr. Sevier.

CHAPTER XLIV.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

Three days Mary's letter lay unanswered. About dusk of the third, as
Richling was hurrying across the yard of the bakery on some errand
connected with the establishment, a light touch was laid upon his
shoulder; a peculiar touch, which he recognized in an instant. He turned
in the gloom and exclaimed, in a whisper:--

"Why, Ristofalo!"

"Howdy?" said Raphael, in his usual voice.

"Why, how did you get out?" asked Richling. "Have you escaped?"

"No. Just come out for little air. Captain of the prison and me. Not
captain, exactly; one of the keepers. Goin' back some time to-night." He
stood there in his old-fashioned way, gently smiling, and looking as
immovable as a piece of granite. "Have you heard from wife lately?"

"Yes," said Richling. "But--why--I don't understand. You and the jailer
out together?"

"Yes, takin' a little stroll 'round. He's out there in the street. You
can see him on door-step 'cross yonder. Pretty drunk, eh?" The Italian's
smile broadened for a moment, then came back to its usual self again. "I
jus' lef' Kate at home. Thought I'd come see you a little while."

"Return calls?" suggested Richling.

"Yes, return call. Your wife well?"

"Yes. But--why, this is the drollest"-- He stopped short, for the
Italian's gravity indicated his opinion that there had been enough
amusement shown. "Yes, she's well, thank you. By-the-by, what do you
think of my letting her come out here now and beg