howing between decks.
So, that is it."

"But what was it made your voice and the sound of your name affect me so
this morning? I could not divest myself of the feeling that, I had heard
it somewhere before."

"Heard it? bless you, sir, I rather think you have heard it before,"
said the fellow, as he worked industriously with his file upon the
handcuffs.

"Well, where, and when; and under what circumstances?" asked the
prisoner, curiously.

"That is just what I am going to tell you, sir; and you see, master
Charles--"

"Master Charles,--Charles,--why do you call me that name?"

"Why, you see, that is your name, to be sure. Charles Bramble, and you
are Captain Robert Bramble's brother, and--take care, hold still, or the
file will cut you."

"How,--do not trifle with me,--what is this which you are telling me?"

"Indeed, sir,--indeed, it is all true," said the other, half frightened
at the effect his words had produced upon the prisoner, who now stepped
away from him and stood aloof, withdrawing his wrists from the operation
which Leonard Hust was performing.

"Come hither, Leonard Hust, if that be your name," he said; "sit here
and tell me what this business is that you refer to. No blind hints,
sir, but speak out plainly, and like a man."

Thus interrogated, the man did as he was directed, and went on to tell
the commander of the "Sea Witch" his story, up to the time when he was
lost to his parents and friends. How he had never been kindly treated by
his elder brother, who, indeed, drove him from home by his incessant
oppression. He referred to that last gallant act he had performed, by
saving his mother's favorite dog, and how little cousin Helen (she is
the same as Miss Huntington) had seen it all, and had thanked him over
and over again for it, and a thousand other reminiscences, thread by
thread, and link by link, filling up the space from earliest childhood
to the hour when he had left his home at Bramble Park.

As he went on relating these things, in the same old natural voice that
he had poured into the same ears from their infancy, until nearly ten
years had passed, a long-closed vein of memory seemed gradually to open
in the prisoner's brain; he covered his face with his hands, and for a
few moments seemed lost in connecting the various threads of the past,
until gradually it all came plainly and clearly back to him. His memory
had again by these hints become completely restored, he was himself
ag