sir--and they talked of New York,
sir."

"_They_ talked? _They_? _Who_? _Married_! Who married her? The widow!
Mrs. Finnimore! Married! Nonsense! And gone! What do you mean? Who was
it?"

The maid started back in fresh fear at Jack's terrible agitation.
Terrible? I should rather think so. Imagine a criminal with the noose
about his neck hearing a whisper going about that a pardon had arrived.
Agitation? I should say that there was occasion for it Still, I didn't
like to see that pretty servant-maid frightened out of her wits. So I
interposed once more.

"We merely want to know," said I, mildly, "who the gentleman was to
whom your mistress was married this morning, and with whom she went to
Montreal?"

"Who, sir? Why, sir--it was the chaplain, sir--of the Bobtails, sir
--the Rev. Mr. Trenaman."

"THE CHAPLAIN!!!" cried Jack, with a strange voice that was somewhere
between a shout and a sob. He turned to me. There was ecstasy on his
face. His eyes were all aglow, and yet I could see in them the moisture
of tears. He caught my hand in both of his.

"Oh, Macrorie!" he faltered, "see here, old boy--it's too much--Louie
--all right--at last--too much, you know."

And the long and the short of it is, he nearly wrung my hand off.

Then he turned to the servant-maid, and fumbling in his pockets drew
out a handful of sovereigns--

"See here!" he said, "you glorious little thing! you princess of
servant-maids! here's something for a new bonnet, you know, or any
thing else yon fancy."

And he forced the sovereigns into her hand.

Then he wrung my hand again.

Then he rushed wildly out.

He flung some more sovereigns at the astonished coachman.

Then he sprang into the carriage, and I followed.

"Where shall I drive to, sir?" said the coachman.

"To Colonel Berton's!" roared Jack.

"Nonsense, Jack!" said I; "it's too early."

"Early--the devil! No it isn't.--Drive on."

And away went the carriage.

I prevailed on Jack to drop me at the corner of one of the streets,
and, getting out, I went to my den, meditating on the astonishing
events of the day.

The conclusions which I then came to about Mrs. Finnimore, now Mrs.
Trenaman, were verified fully by discoveries made afterward.

She had been quick-sighted enough to see that Jack did not care for
her, and had given him up. The chaplain was far more to her taste. As
Jack came again to her, she could cot resist the desire to pay him up.
This was the reason