here have you been
and what has been done to you? Yes, you are changed--you have suffered,
have you not?"

"More than I could wish my worst enemy to suffer," I answered. "But I
forget it all when I look at you, Rose. Oh, sweetheart, if you knew how
I have longed for this moment!"

And then, hand in hand, we kneeled down together and thanked God for all
his goodness, and for the marvelous mercy with which he had brought us
through this time of sore trouble. And on our knees we kissed each other
solemnly, and so sealed our reunion, and blotted out all the bitterness
of the past from our hearts, so that there was nothing left there but
memories, sad indeed, but no longer painful.

"And now," said Rose, "tell me, Humphrey, where you have been and how it
was you went away. Oh, if you knew how we have sorrowed for you."

"First tell me, Rose, how is my uncle?"

"He is well, Humphrey, but he has mourned for you ever since Jasper came
home and told us of your death."

"Ah! Jasper came home and told you of my death, did he? And by what
manner of death did I die, according to Master Jasper?"

"He said you were drowned at Scarborough, in coming from some vessel
where you and he had been paying a visit at night to the captain."

"And did no one doubt him, Rose? Were there no inquiries made?"

"I doubted him, Humphrey. I felt sure there was some strange mystery,
but how could I find it out? And what could be done--they could not drag
Scarborough Bay for your body. Humphrey, did Jasper play some trick upon
you--did he get you out of the way?"

"He did, Rose. Yea, he got me out of the way so well that I have been
right round the world since last I set foot in Beechcot. Think of that,
my dear. Right round the world! I have seen Mexico and the Pacific and
Java and the Celebes and Africa, and I know not what, and here I am
again."

"But you have suffered, Humphrey? Where--and how?"

So I told her very briefly of what had happened to me in the cells of
the Inquisition, and as I spoke, her sweet face was filled with
compassion and her eyes were bright with tears, and she held my hands
tightly clasped in her own as if she would never let them go again.

"Can such things be?" she asked. "Oh, why God does allow them I cannot
understand. My poor Humphrey!"

"Naught but God's help could have brought us through them, dear heart,"
I answered. "And, indeed, I think naught of them now, and would
cheerfully face them again if I thou