“And now, young man,” said the landlord, “you are free.  I have performed my promise to one whose desire in this matter jumps full with my own.  I should have been troubled enough had you perished for the death of Forrester, though, to speak the truth, I should not have risked myself, as I have done to-night, but for my promise to her.”

“Who?—­of whom do you speak?  To whom do I owe all this, if it comes not of your own head?”

“And you do not conjecture?  Have you not a thought on the subject?  Was it likely, think you, that the young woman, who did not fear to go to a stranger’s chamber at midnight, in order to save him from his enemy, would forget him altogether when a greater danger was before him?”

“And to Miss Munro again do I owe my life?  Noble girl! how shall I requite—­how acknowledge my deep responsibility to her?”

“You can not!  I have not looked on either of you for nothing; and my observation has taught me all your feelings and hers.  You can not reward her as she deserves to be rewarded—­as, indeed, she only can be rewarded by you, Mr. Colleton.  Better, therefore, that you seek to make no acknowledgments.”

“What mean you?  Your words have a signification beyond my comprehension.  I know that I am unable to requite services such as hers, and such an endeavor I surely should not attempt; but that I feel gratitude for her interposition may not well be questioned—­the deepest gratitude; for in this deed, with your aid, she relieves me, not merely from death, but the worse agony of that dreadful form of death.  My acknowledgments for this service are nothing, I am well aware; but these she shall have:  and what else have I to offer, which she would be likely to accept?”

“There is, indeed, one thing, Mr. Colleton—­now that I reflect—­which it may be in your power to do, and which may relieve you of some of the obligations which you owe to her interposition, here and elsewhere.”

The landlord paused for a moment, and looked hesitatingly in Ralph’s countenance.  The youth saw and understood the expression, and replied readily:—­

“Doubt not, Mr. Munro, that I shall do all things consistent with propriety, in my power to do, that may take the shape and character of requital for this service; anything for Miss Munro, for yourself or others, not incompatible with the character of the gentleman.  Speak, sir:  if you can suggest a labor of any description, not under this head, which would be grateful to yourself or her, fear not to speak, and rely upon my gratitude to serve you both.”

“I thank you, Mr. Colleton; your frankness relieves me of some heavy thoughts, and I shall open my mind freely to you on the subject which now troubles it.  I need not tell you what my course of life has been.  I need not tell you what it is now.  Bad enough, Mr. Colleton—­bad enough, as you must know by this time.  Life, sir, is uncertain with all persons, but far more uncertain with him whose life