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318 hope; the ship was then six weeks overdue, and the insurances on her had been duly paid.

Desolate and heart-broken I left him, and went to my mother's house in Devonshire. After three weeks of fever I began to recover strength, but the light of my life was extinct, and an undefinable sense of night was all that remained to me. As soon as I was strong enough to stand, I thought of the photographs I had taken at Singapore. They were all that was left to me of my dead love, and with a feeling of unspeakable awe, I proceeded to raise her presentment as it were from the grave. In the closely darkened room, illuminated only by the dim red light of my developing lamp, I prepared the necessary chemicals with a trembling and uncertain hand. I took the plate from the slide in which it had been enclosed for so many months, and as I looked upon its plain creamy surface, so soon to be sanctified by her image, I almost felt that I was engaged on some unhallowed deed of necromancy. Breathless with excitement, I poured the developer upon it, and as I awaited the result, I could hear my heart thumping against my chest. I had not long to wait. Slowly, but surely and distinctly, the features of my darling came to me from the grave. Notwithstanding the inversion of its tones, it stood plainly before me—herself in every detail. As I watched the gradual perfection of the portrait, I cried like a child. At length the development was complete, and, shaking like a leaf, I took it from its bath to examine it more closely. As I did so the door of the room was suddenly opened, a flood of light was admitted, and the photograph was ruined beyond reparation.