some time, but when a slight pause came, a gruff voice was heard to say, "Tell 'em about the savages, Bill, how they fell upon us at Benty's Island."

"Ah! that was a go! My pipe! but there was a shindy and no mistake!"

The narrator went on,

"We'd been ashore for water. A youngster we had with us got into a scrape, and nothing would suit our capt'n but we must go back for him. As we came down shore the black niggers fell upon us, tooth and nail, about five hundred strong. We had a rare scrimmagekilled half of 'em. They shot us with poisoned arrows." "Was any of your men killed?" asked one of the listeners.

"One! Two or three were hurt, and both the youngsters.'

Here Peter gripped Mr. Fairbairn's arm tightly, for that gentleman had started, as though about to speak.

"I was sorry for that lad as we lost. Not Sam, I don't mean, he was a rare cub-but the other. Him as Larcom and Hawkins brought aboard." This was put in by the gruff voice which had before spoken.

"Ay," continued the first speaker, "they did say as he was a real gentleman's son-he had the look of it." Then the talk went off to other matters. Mr. Fairbairn rose to quit the place-Peter Pranks followed. When they were outside the gentleman said hurriedly,

"This is terrible! but still I see nothing to make it certain that the boy they speak of was Mr. Winwood's son." "No, sir," said Pranks slowly, "there is nothing certain

so far; but, perhaps, if you could speak to this man, you might learn more."

They waited till the party broke up and left the house. Quietly following the two seamen, who had parted from the rest, Mr. Fairbairn came up with them.

"My friend," he said, "I heard you just now relate your adventure with the savages, at Benty's Island. Do you happen to remember the name of the poor lad that was killed?" The one called Bill did not answer directly, but he with the gruff voice said,

"His name was Sam. He was the cabin-boy, and as arrant a young rogue-"

"But there was another?" said the gentleman.

"Oh! he was the foundling, as we called him," laughed Bill. "He was a gentleman's son, they said."

"Do you remember his name?"

"Well, it was something like Wormwood, or similar, I know."

"And he was killed?" pursued the questioner.

"I saw him with my own eyes; so did my messmate here." "Ay, we saw him go down, sure enough."

"What was the name of your ship?"

"It was the Caroline, trading vessel; masters, Hawkins and Sims," returned the man.

"Has she sailed again?"

"Well, master, she didn't come to England; she went along down the Mediterranean shores. We-my mate and I got tired of the craft, and changed into a Scotch boat, and so worked home."

"You can tell me no more about this lad, whom you saw killed ?"

T

"No, master; I know nothing more. It was Hawkins and Larcom brought him aboard, and they are with the Caroline. All I know is, I saw the youngster go down, shot dead with one of the blackamoor's arrows."

The men bade Mr. Fairbairn good night. He could learn no more; he had, indeed, learned too much. This was the news he had to take to the expecting aunt and loving little sister on the morrow! He took leave of Peter Pranks, who went his way, sorrowing for his own share in the terrible discovery. Better, he thought, it would have been to remain in uncertainty. Mr. Fairbairn reached the house on the morrow, where Aunt Charlotte and Dolly awaited him. His sad face and slow step told of bad tidings. The poor lady rose hastily, and with parched lips and trembling limbs met him at the door.

"What is it?" she cried. "Bad-bad news! I see it!"

Mr. Fairbairn held out his hands and took hers.

"Be comforted," he said, "be brave. Dolly, my child! come sit by your aunt—”

"Tell me! tell me the truth!" cried Aunt Charlotte. "Harty is dead!"

Mr. Fairbairn shook his head.

At that moment a servant came hastily into the room. 'Ma'am," she said eagerly, "they bade me tell you the Bonny Blink is signalled. She is in the Channel." "My father and mother!" exclaimed Dolly, starting

to her feet.

"It is their ship! They will soon be here!"

CHAPTER XXV.

66
ON BOARD THE 'BONNY BLINK."

GLOWING skies, a sea like glass, or a smooth lake, reflecting the blue sky overhead. A noble ship, with colours flying, music sounding, and the gentle breeze lightly fanning her sails, set for "Home, sweet home!"

“Let us have it again!"

"And again!"

It is the tune, "Home, sweet home!" Twenty times it has been played in these last few days, yet they never weary of listening to, of singing it. Their very hearts seem to dance to it.

"Home, sweet, sweet home,
There is no place like home!"

Who can realize it so well as these homesick travellersthese returning wanderers from a foreign land? How many pictures their fond memories are painting in anticipation! To some the old homestead, with the greyhaired parent, and the hundred recollections of youth. To others the anxious wife, the infant their eyes have

never yet beheld. And again, to some, the beloved brothers and sisters, whom years will have converted from boys and girls into men and women. Two anxious, loving hearts are yearning now with glad anticipations, with anxious hopes and surmises filling their breasts.

"It seems like years since I heard from them," says the lady-a fair, sweet-faced woman, whom you could not have looked upon without recalling Dolly Winwood.

"It is a long time, you know, my dear," replies the gentleman beside her. "We had told Charlotte to send no more letters, you know, and then the delay, of course, made the time double."

"Of course! How strange it is!" she went on; as we draw nearer home I seem to have a dread as of some evil happening. I wonder how I have borne to be away from them all these years. Never again, never again, shall anything part us!"

"Never again, my dear wife-never again in this world, I trust."

"How sweet the air is! I seem to smell English flowers!"

He smiled.

"At any rate, it is an English sun, or you would long ago have had a sunstroke, standing here with that cambric hat only on your head."

"I do so long to catch a glimpse of home."

They turned again to walk. The band was still playing. "The music is English too," said the lady. "No one would have dared play that out yonder." She waved her hand out upon the sea.