After a thorough examination of the wound, the doctor announced the gratifying intelligence that the woman was not dangerously wounded.  The severe operation of extracting the ball was performed, and the patient left to the quiet her situation demanded.

On the passage from Cottage Island Hatchie had related the particulars of the affray, so that on his arrival Dr. Vaudelier was in possession of all the facts.

“You have had a severe fight here, madam,” said he to Emily, who had followed him out to inquire more particularly into the situation of her hostess.

“We have, indeed; but I trust no lives will be lost,” replied Emily.

“No; the woman will do very well.  The wound is a severe one, but not dangerous.  Her strong constitution will resist all fatal consequences.”

“I trust it may, for this has been a day of disaster, without the loss of more life.”

“You were a passenger in the Chalmetta?”

“I was.”

“Then you have had a narrow escape.”

“But a more narrow one since the explosion.  Thank Heaven, I have been preserved from both calamities!”

“Had you no friends on board?”

“I had—­one friend;” and she hesitated.  “I fear he has perished.”

“Hope for the best!” replied the doctor, kindly.

The blush, and then the change to the paleness of death, as Emily thought of Henry, first as the lover, and then as a mangled corpse had not escaped the notice of Dr. Vaudelier.  He read in her varying color the relation they had sustained to each other.

“I have no alternative but hope,” said Emily; “but it seems like hoping against the certainty of evil.”

“I saved the life of a gentleman this morning who must shortly have perished without aid.  He, too, had lost a dear friend.”

“Indeed!” said Emily, with interest.

“Yes; but he was much injured, and will require the most diligent care.”

“I trust your merciful endeavors will be crowned with success.  Do you know the gentleman?”

“I do not.  He has not yet been able to converse much.  He was dressed in the uniform of an officer.”

“An officer!  Perhaps it is he!” exclaimed Emily.

Dr. Vaudelier was much interested in the adventure, and the pale, anxious features of Emily excited his sympathy for her.

“As I dressed his wounds,” said he, “I noticed the initials upon his linen.  Perhaps these may afford some clue.”

“What were they?” exclaimed Emily, scarcely able to articulate, in the intensity of her feelings.

“H.C.”

“It is he!  It is he!  And you say he is wounded?”

“I am sorry to say he is.”

“Can I go to him?” said Emily, grasping the doctor’s arm.

“I fear your presence will excite him.  Are you a relative?”

“No, not a relative,” replied Emily, blushing; “but I know he would like to see me.”