‘And take you this sword. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. Old saltwater was right. “Bless you, sweetheart. How can I tell you all I feel? I love you beyond measure. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket.
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