r Forster. I
have not forgot how kindly you exercised it in my behalf. We--that is,"
continued Isabel, colouring up, "the colonel has often talked of you
since you quitted us."

"I feel highly flattered by his remembrance," replied Newton; "but you
are in mourning, Miss Revel. If not a liberty from one who feels an
interest in all concerning you, may I inquire for whom?"

"It is for my father," replied Isabel, with emotion, sitting down and
passing her hand across her eyes.

"I never heard of his death, and must apologise for having been so
indiscreet as to renew your sorrow. How long is it since? and what was
his complaint?"

"He had no complaint--would to God that he had had! He was shot in a
duel," replied Isabel, as the tears coursed down her cheeks. "Oh! Mr
Forster, I trust I am resigned to the dispensations of Providence, but--
that he should be summoned away at the moment when he was seeking the
life of his fellow-creature, with all the worst passions in excitement--
unprepared--for he was killed on the spot. These reflections will make
his death a source of bitter regret, which can terminate but with
existence."

"Your mother is still alive?" inquired Newton, to change the painful
subject.

"Yes, but very ill; the last accounts were very distressing; they say
that her complaint is incurable."

Newton regretted having brought up so painful a subject. A few words of
condolence and sympathy were offered, and they separated to prepare for
dinner.

Newton remained four days under the roof of the colonel, during which
time he was constantly in the society of Isabel; and when the period of
his departure arrived, he had just grounds to imagine that were all
obstacles in other points removed, Isabel Revel would not, on her part,
have raised any against the accomplishment of his wishes; but their
mutual dependent situations chased away all ideas of the kind for the
present, and although they parted with unconcealed emotion, not a word
which could be construed into a declaration of attachment was permitted
to escape his lips.

The Windsor Castle sailed for Calcutta, and in a few days anchored at
Kedgeree to wait for a pilot to come down the river. During their short
stay at this anchorage, Mr Williams, the first-mate, who was an old
Indian voyager, went on shore every evening to follow up his darling
amusement of shooting jackals, a description of game by no means scarce
in that quarter of the world.