answered　the　rector。
  〃_That_　woman；〃　pursued　Midwinter；　〃moved　gracefully；　and　had　a
  beautiful　figure。　_That_　woman　wore　a　black　veil；　a　black　bonnet；
  a　black　silk　gown；　and　a　red　Paisley　shawl〃　He　stopped；
  released　his　hold　of　Mr。　Brock's　arm；　and　abruptly　resumed　his
  chair。　〃Can　it　be　the　same？〃　he　said　to　himself　in　a　whisper。
  〃_Is_　there　a　fatality　that　follows　men　in　the　dark？　And　is　it
  following　_us_　in　that　woman's　footsteps？〃
  If　the　conjecture　was　right；　the　one　event　in　the　past　which　had
  appeared　to　be　entirely　disconnected　with　the　events　that　had
  preceded　it　was；　on　the　contrary；　the　one　missing　link　which　made
  the　chain　complete。　Mr。　Brock's　comfortable　common　sense
  instinctively　denied　that　startling　conclusion。　He　looked　at
  Midwinter　with　a　compassionate　smile。
  〃My　young　friend；〃　he　said；　kindly；　〃have　you　cleared　your　mind
  of　all　superstition　as　completely　as　you　think？　Is　what　you　have
  just　said　worthy　of　the　bet　ter　resolution　at　which　you　arrived
  last　night？〃
  Midwinter's　head　drooped　on　his　breast；　the　color　rushed　back
  over　his　face；　he　sighed　bitterly。
  〃You　are　beginning　to　doubt　my　sincerity；〃　he　said。　〃I　can't
  blame　you。〃
  〃I　believe　in　your　sincerity　as　firmly　as　ever；〃　answered　Mr。
  Brock。　〃I　only　doubt　whether　you　have　fortified　the　weak　places
  in　your　nature　as　strongly　as　you　yourself　suppose。　Many　a　man
  has　lost　the　battle　against　himself　far　oftener　than　you　have
  lost　it　yet；　and　has　nevertheless　won　his　victory　in　the　end。　I
  don't　blame　you；　I　don't　distrust　you。　I　only　notice　what　has
  happened；　to　put　you　on　your　guard　against　yourself。　Come！　come！
  Let　your　own　better　sense　help　you；　and　you　will　agree　with　me
  that　there　is　really　no　evidence　to　justify　the　suspicion　that
  the　woman　whom　I　met　in　Somersetshire；　and　the　woman　who
  attempted　suicide　in　London；　are　one　and　the　same。　Need　an　old
  man　like　me　remind　a　young　man　like　you　that　there　are　thousands
  of　women　in　England　with　beautiful　figuresthousands　of　women
  who　are　quietly　dressed　in　black　silk　gowns　and　red　Paisley
  shawls？〃
  Midwinter　caught　eagerly　at　the　suggestion；　too　eagerly；　as　it
  might　have　occurred　to　a　harder　critic　on　humanity　than　Mr。
  Brock。
  〃You　are　quite　right；　sir；〃　he　said；　〃and　I　am　quite　wrong。　Tens
  of　thousands　of　women　answer　the　description；　as　you　say。　I　have
  been　wasting　time　on　my　own　idle　fancies；　when　I　ought　to　have
  been　carefully　gathering　up　facts。　If　this　woman　ever　attempts　to
  find　her　way　to　Allan；　I　must　be　prepared　to　stop　her。〃　He　began
  searching　restlessly　among　the　manuscript　leaves　scattered　about
  the　table；　paused　over　one　of　the　pages；　and　examined　it
  attentively。　'This　helps　me　to　something　positive；〃　he　went　on；
  〃this　helps　me　to　a　knowledge　of　her　age。　She　was　twelve　at　the
  time　of　Mrs。　Armadale's　marriage；　add　a　year；　and　bring　her　to
  thirteen；　add　Allan's　age　（twenty…two）；　and　we　make　her　a　woman
  of　five…and…thirty　at　the　present　time。　I　know　her　age；　and　I
  know　that　she　has　her　own　reasons　for　being　silent　about　her
  married　life。　This　is　something　gained　at　the　outset；　and　it　may
  lead；　in　time；　to　something　more。〃　He　looked　up　brightly　again　at
  Mr。　Brock。　〃Am　I　in　the　right　way　now；　sir？　Am　I　doing　my　best　to
  profit　by　the　caution　which　you　have　kindly　given　me？〃
  〃You　are　vindicating　your　own　better　sense；〃　answered　the　rector；
  encouraging　him　to　trample　down　his　own　imagination；　with　an
  Englishman's　ready　distrust　of　the　noblest　of　the　human
  faculties。　〃You　are　paving　the　way　for　your　own　happier　life。〃
  〃Am　I？〃　said　the　other；　thoughtfully。
  He　searched　among　the　papers　once　more；　and　stopped　at　another　of
  the　scattered　pages。
  〃The　ship！〃　he　exclaimed；　suddenly；　his　color　changing　again；　and
  his　manner　altering　on　the　instant。
  〃What　ship？〃　asked　the　rector。
  〃The　ship　in　which　the　deed　was　done；〃　Midwinter　answered；　with
  the　first　signs　of　impatience　that　he　had　shown　yet。　〃The　ship　in
  which　my　father's　murderous　hand　turned　the　lock　of　the　cabin
  door。〃
  〃What　of　it？〃　said　Mr。　Brock。
  He　appeared　not　to　hear　the　question；　his　eyes　remained　fixed
  intently　on　the　page　that　he　was　reading。
  〃A　French　vessel；　employed　in　the　timber　trade；〃　he　said；　still
  speaking　to　himself〃a　French　vessel；　named　_La　Grace　de　Dieu。_
  If　my　father's　belief　had　been　the　right　beliefif　the　fatality
  had　been　following　me；　step　by　step；　from　my　father's　grave；　in
  one　or　other　of　my　voyages；　I　should　have　fallen　in　with　that
  ship。〃　He　looked　up　again　at　Mr。　Brock。　〃I　am　quite　sure　about　it
  now；〃　he　said。　〃Those　women　are　two；　and　not　one。〃
  Mr。　Brock　shook　his　head。
  〃I　am　glad　you　have　come　to　that　conclusion；〃　he　said。　〃But　I
  wish　you　had　reached　it　in　some　other　way。〃
  Midwinter　started　passionately　to　his　feet；　and；　seizing　on　the
  pages　of　the　manuscript　with　both　hands；　flung　them　into　the
  empty　fireplace。
  〃For　God's　sake　let　me　burn　it！〃　he　exclaimed。　〃As　long　as　there
  is　a　page　left；　I　shall　read　it。　And；　as　long　as　I　read　it；　my
  father　gets　the　better　of　me；　in　spite　of　myself！〃
  Mr。　Brock　pointed　to　the　match…box。　In　another　moment　the
  confession　was　in　flames。　When　the　fire　had　consumed　the　last
  morsel　of　paper；　Midwinter　drew　a　deep　breath　of　relief。
  〃I　may　say；　like　Macbeth：　'Why；　so；　being　gone；　I　am　a　man
  again！'　〃　he　broke　out　with　a　feverish　gayety。　〃You　look
  fatigued；　sir；　and　no　wonder；〃　he　added；　in　a　lower　tone。　〃I　have
  kept　you　too　long　from　your　restI　will　keep　you　no　longer。
  Depend　on　my　remembering　what　you　have　told　me；　depend　on　my
  standing　between　Allan　and　any　enemy；　man　or　woman；　who　comes
  near　him。　Thank　you；　Mr。　Brock；　a　thousand　thousand　times；　thank
  you！　I　came　into　this　room　the　most　wretched　of　living　men；　I　can
  leave　it　now　as　happy　as　the　birds　that　are　singing　outside！〃
  As　he　turned　to　the　door；　the　rays　of　the　rising　sun　streamed
  through　the　window；　and　touched　the　heap　of　ashes　lying　black　in
  the　black　fireplace。　The　sensitive　imagination　of　Midwinter
  kindled　instantly　at　the　sight。
  〃Look！〃　he　said；　joyously。　〃The　promise　of　the　Future　shining
  over　the　ashes　of　the　Past！〃
  An　inexplicable　pity　for　the　man；　at　the　moment　of　his　life　when
  he　needed　pity　least；　stole　over　the　rector's　heart　when　the　door
  had　closed；　and　he　was　left　by　himself　again。
  〃Poor　fellow！　〃　he　said；　with　an　uneasy　surprise　at　his　own
  compassionate　impulse。　〃Poor　fellow！〃
  CHAPTER　III。
  DAY　AND　NIGHT
  THE　morning　hours　had　passed；　the　noon　had　come　and　gone；　and　Mr。
  Brock　had　started　on　the　first　stage　of　his　journey　home。
  After　parting　from　the　rector　in　Douglas　Harbor；　the　two　young
  men　had　returned　to　Castletown；　and　had　there　separated　at　the
  hotel　door；　Allan　walking　down　to　the　waterside　to　look　after　his
  yacht；　and　Midwinter　entering　the　house　to　get　the　rest　that　he
  needed　after　a　sleepless　night。
  He　darkened　his　room；　he　closed　his　eyes；　but　no　sleep　came　to
  him。　On　this　first　day　of　the　rector's　absence；　his　sensitive
  nature　extravagantly　exaggerated　the　responsibility　which　he　now
  held　in　trust　for　Mr。　Brock。　A　nervous　dread　of　leaving　Allan　by
  himself；　even　for　a　few　hours　only；　kept　him　waking　and　doubting；
  until　it　became　a　relief　rather　than　a　hardship　to　rise　from　the
  bed　again；　and；　following　in　Allan's　footsteps；　to　take　the　way
  to　the　waterside　which　led　to　the　yacht。
  The　repairs　of　the　little　vessel　were　nearly　completed。　It　was　a
  breezy；　cheerful　day；　the　land　was　bright；　the　water　was　blue；
  the　quick　waves　leaped　crisply　in　the　sunshine；　the　men　were
  singing　at　their　work。　Descending　to　the　cabin；　Midwinter
  discovered　his　friend　busily　occupied　in　attempting　to　set　the
  place　to　rights。　Habitually　the　least　systematic　of　mortals；
  Allan　now　and　then　awoke　to　an　overwhelming　sense　of　the
  advantages　of　order；　and　on　such　occasions　a　perfect　frenzy　of
  tidiness　possessed　him。　He　was　down　on　his　knees；　hotly　and
  wildly　at　work；　when　Midwinter　looked　in　on　him；　and　was　fast
  reducing　the　neat　little　world　of　the　cabin　to　its　original
  elements　of　chaos；　with　a　misdirected　energy　wonderful　to　see。
  〃Here's　a　mess！〃　said　Allan；　rising　composedly　on　the　horizon　of
  his　own　accumulated　litter。　〃Do　you　know；　my　dear　fellow；　I　begin
  to　wish　I　had　let　well　alone！〃
  Midwinter　smiled；　and　came　to　his　friend's　assistance　with　the
  natural　neat…handedness　of　a　sailor。
  The　first　object　that　he　encountered　was　Allan's　dressing…case；
  turned　upside　down；　with　half　the　contents　scattered　on　the
  floor；　and　with　a　duster　and　a　hearth…broom　lying　among　them。
  Replacing　the　various　objects　which　formed　the　furniture　of　the
  dressing…case　one　by　one；　Midwinter　lighted　unexpectedly　on　a
  miniature　portrait；　of　the　old…fashioned　oval　form；　primly　framed
  in　a　setting　of　small　diamonds。
  〃You　don't　seem　to　set　much　value　on　this；〃　he　said。　〃What　is
  it？〃
  Allan　bent　over　him；　and　looked　at　the　miniature。　〃It　belonged　to
  my　mother；〃　he　answered；　〃and　I　set　the　greatest　value　on　it。　It
  is　a　portrait　of　my　father。〃
  Midwinter　put　the　miniature　abruptly；　into　Allan's　hands；　and
  withdrew　to　the　opposite　side　of　the　cabin。
  〃You　know　best　where　the　things　ought　to　be　put　in　your　own
  dressing…case；〃　he　said；　keeping　his　back　turned