"THE TEXEL, October 3, 1779

"MY DEAR Miss DOROTHY: I would not be thought to flutter y'r Gentle
Bosom with Needless Alarms, nor do I believe I have misjudged y'r
Warm & Generous Nature when I write you that One who is held very
High in y'r Esteem lies Exceeding Ill at this Place, who might by
Tender Nursing regain his Health. I seize this Opportunity to say,
my dear Lady, that I have ever held my too Brief Acquaintance with
you in London as one of the Sacred Associations of my Life. From
the Little I saw of you then I feel Sure that this Appeal will not
pass in Vain. I remain y'r most Humble and Devoted Admirer,

"JAMES ORCHARDSON."

"And she knew it was from Commodore Jones?" I asked, in astonishment.

"My dear," replied Mrs. Manners, with a quiet smile, "we women have a
keener instinct than men--though I believe your commodore has a woman's
intuition. Yes, Dorothy knew. And I shall never forget the fright she
gave me as she rose from the table and handed me the sheet to read,
crying but the one word. She sent off to Brook Street for Lord Comyn,
who came at once, and, in half an hour the dear fellow was set out for
Dover. He waited for nothing, since war with Holland was looked for at
any day. And his Lordship himself will tell you about that rescue.
Within the week he had brought you to us. Your skull had been trepanned,
you had this great hole in your thigh, and your heart was beating but
slowly. By Mr. Fox's advice we sent for Dr. Barry, who is a skilled
surgeon, and a discreet man despite his manner. And you have been here
for better than three weeks, Richard, hanging between life and death."

"And I owe my life to you and to Dorothy," I said.

"To Lord Comyn and Dr. Barry, rather," she replied quickly. "We have
done little but keep the life they saved. And I thank God it was given
me to do it for the son of your mother and father."

Something of the debt I owed them was forced upon me.

They were poor, doubtless driven to make ends meet, and yet they had
taken me in, called upon near the undivided services of an able surgeon,
and worn themselves out with nursing me. Nor did I forget the risk they
ran with such a guest. For the first time in many years my heart
relented toward Mr. Marmaduke. For their sakes I forgave him over and
over what I had suffered, and my treatment of him lay like a weight upon
me. And how was I to repay them? They need