“He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. But she was only able to save a corner of the letter. Och! many a mug o' bubb have I drained wi' the landlord, Joe Hind. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend. He passed but a cursory glance over the formal certificate that identified the Frenchman before him as one André Valade, distant cousin to the Vicomte Valade.
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