d through the aperture.
She drew out a folded sheet of paper.

It proved to be a letter in her husband's hand-writing. An inclosure
dropped to the floor when she opened it, in the shape of a small slip of
paper. She picked it up. The morsel of paper presented letters, figures,
and crosses arranged in lines, and mingled together in what looked like
hopeless confusion.

3.--The Letter.

Mrs. Westerfield laid the incomprehensible slip of paper aside, and, in
search of an explanation, returned to the letter. Here again she
found herself in a state of perplexity. Directed to "Mrs. Roderick
Westerfield," the letter began abruptly, without the customary form of
address. Did it mean that her husband was angry with her when he wrote?
It meant that he doubted her.

In these terms he expressed himself:

"I write to you before my trial takes place. If the verdict goes in my
favor, I shall destroy what I have written. If I am found guilty, I must
leave it to you to do what I should otherwise have done for myself.

"The undeserved misfortune that has overtaken me began with the arrival
of my ship in the port of Rio. Our second mate (his duty for the day
being done) asked leave to go on shore--and never returned. What motive
determined him on deserting, I am not able to say. It was my own wish
to supply his place by promoting the best seaman on board. My owners'
agents overruled me, and appointed a man of their own choosing.

"What nation he belonged to I don't know. The name he gave me was
Beljames, and he was reported to be a broken-down gentleman. Whoever he
might be, his manner and his talk were captivating. Everybody liked him.

"After the two calamities of the loss of the ship and the disappearance
of the diamonds--these last being valued at five thousand pounds--I
returned to England by the first opportunity that offered, having
Beljames for a companion.

"Shortly after getting back to my house in London, I was privately
warned by a good friend that my owners had decided to prosecute me for
willfully casting away the ship, and (crueler still) for having stolen
the missing diamonds. The second mate, who had been in command of the
vessel when she struck on the rock, was similarly charged along with
me. Knowing myself to be innocent, I determined, of course, to stand
my trial. My wonder was, what Beljames would do. Would he follow my
example? or, if he got the chance, would he try to make his escape?

"I might