Part 91 (1/2)

”More than any thing else,” replied he

”There is a sand-bank,” began the stranger, ”three hundred oes by the name of Coffin Island It is so called on account of a rock of peculiar shape at the eastern extreland, when a violent storm arose, and I was cast ashore alone upon that island This may seem extraordinary to you, but what I have to tell is still more extraordinary I found food and water there, and lived for some time At last another hurricane came and bleay all the sand from a mound at the western end This mound had been piled about a wrecked vessel--a vessel wrecked twenty years ago, twenty years ago,” he repeated, with startling emphasis, ”and the name of that vessel was the _Vishnu_”

”The _Vishnu_!” cried Despard, starting to his feet, while his whole frae narrative ”_Vishnu_!”

”Yes, the _Vishnu_!” continued the stranger

”You knohat that means For many years that vessel had lain there, entombed amidst the sands, until at last I--on that lonely isle--saw the sands swept away and the buried shi+p revealed I went on board I entered the cabin I passed through it At last I entered a room at one corner A skeleton lay there Do you knohose it was?”

”Whose?” cried Despard, in a frenzy of exciteer, in an awful voice

”God in heaven!” exclaimed Despard, and he sank back into his seat

”In his hand he held a e to his friends It was inclosed in a bottle The stor it overboard He held it there as though waiting for some one to take it I was the one appointed to that task I took it I read it, and now that I have arrived in England I have brought it to you”

”Where is it?” cried Despard, in wild excitee upon the table

Despard seized it, and tore open the coverings At the first sight he recognized the handwriting of his father, familiar to him from old letters written to him when he was a child--letters which he had always preserved, and every turn of which was ilance was sufficient to ier's tale was true

Without another word he began to read it And as he read all his soul beca shi+p

There he read the villainy of the miscreant who had compassed his death, and the despair of the castaway

That suffering ave intensity to his thoughts as he read The dying eance to Ralph Brandon, and his blessing to his son

Despard read over the manuscript many times It was his father's words to hier ”The manuscript is yours I have made inquiries for Ralph Brandon, and find that he is dead It is for you to do as seeys cry to Heaven for vengeance”

”And they shall be avenged!” exclai his clenched hand upon the table

”I have soer,which you will prize more than life It orn next your father's heart till he died I found it there”

Saying this he handed to Despard aa beautiful woman, whose features were like his own

”My mother!” cried Despard, passionately, and he covered the miniature with kisses

”I buried your father,” said the stranger, after a long pause ”His re-place”

”And who are you? What are you? How did you find erly