" And springing backwards, he darted suddenly through the door. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. The beachcomber, the lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this estate.
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