She remembered that she had expressed no gratitude to Mr.Outram for his heroic rescue of her.

Yet in her heart she was grateful enough.

But for him she must now have been dead, and the world of light and love would have closed its gates upon her for ever.

Still, mixed up with her gratitude and earnest admiration of the deed of heroism which had been wrought for her sake, was another feeling, a feeling of resentment and alarm.

This stranger, this dark, keen-eyed, resolute man had bought her as a slave; more, he had gone through a form of marriage with her that was not all a form, for it had been solemnly celebrated by a priest, and there on her finger was the memorial of it.