Andrew took the ring nearer to the light.
"The characters are Danish!" said he excitedly. "It is the name 'Thora Quendale!'"
"Well, all this is unmistakable evidence," said Mr. Duke. "I think you have proved, Andrew, that this passenger on the Pilgrim and the owner of the Undine were one and the same person. The ring is a lady's ring. Probably it belonged to Quendale's wife."
"I think it likely that he took it from his dead wife's finger," said the schoolmaster, handing the ring back to me.
"No, sir," I said. "The ring isna mine. It belongs now to Thora, and Thora shall have it;" and making my way towards her I took her fair hand in mine.
White and smooth it was, like the hand of a lady, with long tapering fingers and shapely nails. A strange new sensation came over me as I held it in my own rough palm. My heart beat quicker, and I felt myself growing red in the face.
"Take the ring, Thora, and wear it for the sake of those who have gone before;" and I slipped the glistening ring upon her finger.
"Thank you, Halcro!" she said, very softly. "Thank you! I will wear it for my father and mother's sake, and also for yours."
"For my sake, Thora!" and I looked down into her eyes.
There was an expression in them that I had not seen there before. I started back with a sudden recollection. Here before me I saw the same blue eyes, the same fair hair, the same beautiful face and rounded neck that I had seen pictured in the locket that fell from the dead man's hand on board the Pilgrim! Here was proof added to proof. There could no longer be any doubt in my mind that Thora was indeed the daughter of the beautiful woman who was cast ashore at Inganess, and whose body now lay in the old neglected graveyard across the moor--the daughter of Thora and Ephraim Quendale.