“No,” answered William, “I did not marry her, but ’twas not my fault.  She played me false.  Six months after her father’s death we were to be married.  The evening previous to our wedding arrived.  I was perfectly happy, but Inez seemed low-spirited, and when I inquired the cause she answered, ‘Nothing, except a little nervous excitement.’  I readily believed her; but when the morning came the cause of her low spirits was explained.  The bird had flown, with a young Englishman, Sir Arthur Effingham, who had been a frequent guest at my house.”

“That was one of Tempest’s capers to a dot,” said Uncle Joshua, “but go on, Bill, and tell us whether the disappointment killed you or not.”

So William proceeded:  “Instead of my bride, I found a note from Inez, in which she asked pardon for what she had done, saying she had long loved Sir Arthur, but did not dare tell me so.  They were going to England, whither she wished me to send a part of her portion, as her husband was not wealthy.  I could understand Inez’s character perfectly, and could readily see that she preferred a titled but poor Englishman to a wealthy, but plain American, so I gave her up quietly.”

“And was mighty glad to get shut of her so,” interrupted Joshua.

“From that time,” continued William, “I gave up all thoughts of marriage, and devoted myself to increasing my wealth, and spending it for my own comfort and the good of others.  Twelve years ago I chanced to go on board the Delphine, and there I found Ashton.”

“Look at him, for gracious sake,” said Uncle Joshua, pointing toward Ashton.  “Why man, you are as white as one of Judy’s biscuit; what ails you?”

“Nothing,” answered Ashton, who really was much affected by Mr. Middleton’s narrative; but he said, “I am only thinking of the long, weary days I passed in the Delphine before Mr. Middleton kindly cared for me.”

This seemed quite natural, and Mr. Middleton continued:  “Ashton was wasted to a mere skeleton by ship fever, and my heart yearned toward him.  Perhaps I felt a stronger sympathy for him when I learned that he was an American.  He, like myself, had run away.  The vessel, in which he had embarked, had been wrecked, and he, with two others, were saved in a small boat.  For days they floated above the broad expanse of waters until at length the Delphine picked them up, and brought them to India.  I had Ashton removed to my house, but as soon as he recovered, he took French leave of me.  From that time I lived alone.  I wrote to you frequently, but got no answer.  My letters must have been lost, but I then concluded you were dead.  At last I began to have such an ardent desire to tread my native soil once more that I disposed of my property and set out for home, so here I am and have told you my history; what do you think of it?”

There was no answer save the sound of heavy breathing; Uncle Joshua had probably got to sleep “all over.”  The cessation of his brother’s voice awoke him, and rubbing his eyes he said, “Yes, yes, Ashton had the ship fever.  I hope he can’t give it now, for I’m mortal feared on’t.”