as one deeply interested in the misfortunes of
Mortimer, and desirous of assisting him. His own astonishment surpassed
that of Mrs. Snarle, when he found her entirely ignorant of the arrest.
While he was speaking, and Mrs. Snarle--who stood with her hand on the back
of a chair, from which she had just risen--was regarding him with a vacant
stare, Daisy stepped into the room, without knowing that it was occupied.

Edward Walters ceased speaking, and fixed his eyes on what, to him, seemed
an apparition. He had seen that pale, pensive face in his dreams for years.
It had followed him out to sea, and in far lands where he sought to avoid
it. He arose from the sofa, and approached Daisy with hesitating steps, as
if he were afraid she would vanish into thin air before he reached her.
Daisy shrunk from him, and looked inquiringly at her mother. Walters laid
his hand on the girl's arm.

"Sometimes," he said, looking her full in the eyes--"sometimes the mind
wanders back to childhood, and we have visions of pleasant fields and
familiar places. Something we had forgotten comes back to us in
shadow--voices, faces, incidents! Did you ever see a snow-storm in your
thought?"

Daisy started as if in sudden pain.

Walters watched the effect of his question with unconcealed emotion.

"Yes," said Daisy, lifting up her eyes wonderingly.

"I knew it," said the man, abstractedly, taking Daisy's hand.

The girl drew back in fear, and Mrs. Snarle stepped between them.

"My words seem strange, lady; but I knew her when she was a babe."

And he turned his frank face to Daisy.

"What do you know of me?" cried Daisy, grasping his arm eagerly.

"Everything."

"O, sir, do not deal in mystery! If you know aught of this child's life, in
mercy speak!" and Mrs. Snarle caught his hand.

"I can tell nothing now."

And with this he abruptly put on his hat, strode into the hall and out of
the front door, waving his hand to Daisy, who, as we have said, stood on
the steps, and watched him till he was out of sight.

We will leave Mrs. Snarle and Daisy to their astonishment, and follow on
the quick foot-steps of our marine friend, to whom that day seemed crowded
with wonderful events.

It did not take long for Walters to reach Wall-street, where he
disappeared in one of those many law offices which fringe that somewhat
suspected and much-abused locality. On the door through which Mr. Walters
passed was a tin sign, bearing, in gilt letters,