I then knelt by the bedside, and taking from my pocket
a picture of himself that he had sent me, and his last letter, said,
"Did you ever see these before?"
He glanced at them, recognized them, and turned deadly
pale. His hand trembled so that he could scarcely hold the picture
and the letter, and looking at me with a scared expression, he gasped,
"Yes, they are mine! Where did you get them ? Has anything happened?"
"No, no, captain," I exclaimed. "You must not
be frightened; nothing has happened that will be displeasing to
you."
THE MYSTERY REVEALED.
"But I don't understand," he said; "
how did you get these?"
"Ah" I said, "that is my secret just
now. You know you told me last night, when you showed me the portrait
of your lady, that you had not seen her for three years; are you
so very sure of that?"
He still failed to comprehend what I meant, and stared
at me in astonishment. I, therefore, went to his pocket, and got
the picture, and, placing it in his hand, said, "Now take a
good look at that, and tell me if you have not seen somebody very
much like it inside of three years."
He looked at the picture, and then at me, with a most
puzzled expression, unable to say anything, until I, oppressed with
his silence, and unable to endure longer a scene that was becoming
most painful to both of us, said, "Well, captain, don't you
think that the picture of your lady-love looks the least bit like
your friend Harry Buford?"
