"I have no fears," said Anthony Bidaud, with a gentle smile, "on the score of your deficiencies. I have been no inattentive observer since the fortunate day upon which I first formed acquaintance with you. That you have had a disappointment in life counts for very little, and such small difficulties as befall a newcomer in this new land are scarcely to be accounted among the real difficulties of life. You do not yet know your own strength, but already, in a position of serious responsibility, you have acted in a manner which few men would have had the courage to do. Your past is honourable, and contents me. You have a kind heart, and that adds to my content. Should the worst happen, my Annette will have by her side a true and honest counsellor. Reflect a moment. Say that I were to die to-morrow--nay, do not argue with me; death is the only certain thing in life, and it may come at any unexpected moment to the strongest--say that I die to-morrow, what would be the position of my dear child? I have an estate worth thousands of pounds; she is a mere child, and could not manage it. She would become the prey of schemers, who would undoubtedly not deal fairly by her. I have a hundred servants on this plantation, and not a friend among them. By accident you enter into our lives. I use the term accident, but I believe it to be a providence. We are drawn to each other. I have observed you closely, and am satisfied to deliver into your hands a sacred charge, the charge of a young girl's future. At such moments as these there comes to some men a subtle, unfathomable insight. It comes to me. I firmly believe that there is a link between you and my child which, if you do not recognise it now, you will be bound to recognise in the future. It may be broken in the present, but the threads will be joined as surely as we stand here side by side. Apart from this mysticism, to which I do not expect you to subscribe, there is a worldly, practical side which it is right and necessary you should understand. You ask for fuller information of my brother and sister. I will give it to you. That my brother and I did not part friends, and that his attitude towards me influenced my sister, was not my fault. I loved a young girl in my own station in life, and she loved me and afterwards became my wife. That my brother Gilbert loved her also was to be deplored; we were not to be blamed for it, though Gilbert was furious--with me for loving her, with her for returning my love. I endeavoured to remonstrate with him: he would not listen to me. 'You have stepped in the way of my happiness,' he said; 'you shall rue it.' It is hard to speak harshly of one's flesh and blood, but it is the truth that the girl I loved was fortunate in not placing her affections upon him. He would have broken her heart. He was a spendthrift and a libertine, and would stop at little for the gratification of his selfish pleasures. He was furious against me, not so much because he loved Annette's mother, but because he could not have his own way. He was clever in crooked things, and in cunning shrewdness there were few to beat him. Educated as a doctor, he could have earned a good name if he had chosen to be industrious; but he preferred to lead an idle, dissolute life. These evil courses caused him to be deeply in debt at the time of my father's death. A portion of my father's fortune, which was not very large, was left to me, and Gilbert endeavoured to rob me of it, saying he was the elder, as he was by a year. With wedded life in view I resisted the attempt, and this angered him the more. He swore that he would never forgive me, and that he would be revenged upon me. It was strange that my sister leaned more towards him than towards me, but that does sometimes happen with the scapegrace of the family. I am not endeavouring to blacken Gilbert's character for my own glorification. In drawing his picture I have dealt more than justly by him; were he not my brother I should speak of actions of his which made me wonder how he and I could have been born of the same mother. It is that I wish you to understand why I did not write to him to come here and take charge of my dear child, and to understand why I said that I would as soon give her into the care of a wolf. I succeeded in obtaining my share of my father's fortune, and soon afterwards married. Even then Gilbert did not cease from persecuting me. He would come and take up his quarters in our house, and insult my wife, and revile me, unto our life became intolerable. It was then that we resolved to emigrate, chiefly to escape his persecutions. Then he showed us plainly that his love had changed to hate. He said to me before I left Switzerland, 'One day I will be even with you.