"Starboard!" sang out her skipper, now mounting from the paddle-box to the bridge above. "Hard over, my man!"

"Starboard it is, sir," replied the helmsman, rapidly twirling the spokes of the wheel as he spoke. "It's right over, sir."

"Steady!" now sang out the skipper, meaning that the vessel's head had been sufficiently turned in the direction he desired. "Steady; keep her so."

"Steady it is, sir," repeated the man at the wheel like a parrot, to show that the order had been understood and acted upon. "Steady it is."

"Port a trifle now."

"Aye, aye, sir," returned the helmsman, reversing the wheel. "Port it is, sir; two points over."

"Steady."

"Steady it is."

Whereupon, a straight course being now laid for the little port to which they were bound on the Isle of Wight opposite, the Bembridge Belle steamed ahead, splashing and dashing through the water, that rippled over with laughter in the bright sunshine, lightening up its translucent depths, and leaving a broad silvery wake of dancing eddies behind her.



CHAPTER TEN.

AFLOAT—AND ASHORE.

"Sure, I'm almost dead entirely, with all that hurrying and scurrying!" exclaimed Mrs Gilmour, when she was at length got safely on board the little steamer and comfortably placed on a cosy seat aft, near the wheel, to which Captain Dresser had gallantly escorted her. "Really, now, I couldn't have run another yard, if it had been to save me life!"

She panted out the words with such a racy admixture of her Irish "brogue," which always became more "pronounced" with her when she was at all excited in any way, that the Captain, even while showing every sympathy for her distressed condition, could not help chuckling as he imitated her tone of voice and accent—much to the amusement of Master Bob and Miss Nellie, you may be sure!

"Sure, an' there's no knowin' what ye can do, now, till ye thry, ma'am!" said he. "Is there, me darlint?"

"None of your nonsense," she replied laughing; "I won't have you making fun of my country like that. I'm sure you're just as much an Irishman as I am!"

This slip delighted the Captain.

"There, ma'am," he exclaimed exultingly, "you've been and gone and put your foot in it now in all conscience."

"Oh, auntie!" cried Nellie, "an Irishman!"

This made Mrs Gilmour see her blunder, and she cheerfully joined in the laugh against herself.

Bob, meanwhile, had stationed himself by the engine-room hatchway, and was contemplating with rapt attention the almost human-like movements of the machinery below.

How wonderful it all was, he thought—the up and down stroke of the piston in and out of the cylinder, which oscillated from side to side guided by the eccentric; with the steady systematic revolution of the shaft, borne round by the crank attached to the piston-head, all working so smoothly, and yet with such resistless force!

The whole was a marvel to him, as indeed it is to many of us to whom a marine engine is no novelty.

"Well, my young philosopher," said the Captain, tapping him on the shoulder and making him take off his gaze for a moment from the sight, "do you think you understand the engines by this time, eh?"

Bob only needed the hint to speak; and out he came with a whole volley of questions.

"What is that thing there?" he asked, "the thing that goes round, I mean."

"The paddle-shaft," replied the Captain; "it turns the wheels."

"And that other thing that goes up and down?"

"The piston-rod," said the old sailor. "It is this which turns the shaft."

"Then, I want to know how the piston makes the shaft turn round, when it only goes up and down itself?"

"The 'eccentric' manages to do that, although it was a puzzle for a long time to engineers to solve the problem—not until, I believe, Fulton thought of this plan," said the Captain; and, he then went on to explain how, in the old beam-engine of Watt, as well as in the earlier contrivances for utilising steam-power, a fly-wheel was the means adopted for changing the perpendicular action of the piston into a circular motion. "Of course, though," he added, "this fly-wheel was only available in stationary engines for pumping and so on; but, when the principle of the eccentric was discovered later in the day, the previously uneducated young giant, 'Steam,' was then broken to harness, so to speak, being thenceforth made serviceable for dragging railway- carriages on our iron roads, and propelling ships without the aid of sails, and against the wind even, if need be!"

"But what is steam?" was Bob's next query. "That's what I want to know."

This fairly bothered the Captain.

"Steam?" he repeated, "steam, eh? humph! steam is, well let me see, steam is—steam!"

Bob exploded at this, his merriment being shared by Nellie and Mrs Gilmour, the latter not sorry for the old sailor's "putting his foot in it" by a very similar blunder to that for which he had laughed at her shortly before; while, as for Dick, the struggles he made to hide the broad grin which would show on his face were quite comical and even painful to witness.

The Captain pretended to get into a great rage; although his twinkling eyes and suppressed chuckle testified that it was only pretence all the time, though his passion was well simulated.

"I don't see anything to laugh at, you young rascal," he said to Bob. "I'm sure I've given you quite as good a definition as you would find in any of those 'catechisms of common things'—catechisms of conundrums, I call them—which boys and girls are made to learn by rote, like parrots, without really acquiring any sensible knowledge of the subjects they are supposed to teach! I might tell you, as these works do, that 'steam was an elastic fluid generated by water when in a boiling state'; but, would you be any the wiser for that piece of information, eh?"

"No, Captain," answered Bob, still giggling, "I don't understand."

"Or, I might tell you 'steam: is only a synonym for heat, the cause of all motion'—do you understand that?"

Bob still shook his head, trying vainly to keep from laughing.

"Of course not," cried the Captain triumphantly, "nor would I, either, unless I knew something more about it; and to tell you that would take me all the day nearly."

"Oh spare us," said Mrs Gilmour plaintively. "Pray spare us that!"

"I will, ma'am," he replied. "I assure you I wasn't going to do it. Some time or other, though, this young shaver shall come along with me when one of the new ships goes out from the dockyard for her steam trials; and then, perhaps, he will be able to have everything explained to him properly, without boring you or bothering me."

"How jolly!" ejaculated Bob. "I should like that."

"You mustn't count your chickens before they're hatched," growled the other, turning round on him abruptly; "and, if ever I catch you sniggering again when I'm talking I'll—I'll—"

What the Captain's terrible threat was must ever remain a mystery; for, just at that moment, Nell, who had been looking over the side of the steamer, watching the creamy foam churned-up by her paddles and rolling with heavy undulations into the long white wake astern marking her progress through the water, suddenly uttered an exclamation.

"Look, look, aunt Polly!" she cried excitedly. "Oh, look!"

"What, dearie?" inquired Mrs Gilmour, bending towards her, thinking she had dropped her glove or something into the sea. "What is it?"

"There, there!" said Nellie, pointing out some dark objects that could be seen tumbling about in the tideway some distance off the starboard quarter. "See those big fishes, auntie! Are they whales?"

It was the Captain's turn to laugh now.

"Whales, eh? By Jove, you'll be the death of me, missy, by Jove, you will, ho-ho-ho!" he chuckled, leaning on his stick for support. "What does Shakespeare say, eh? 'very like a whale,' eh? Ho-ho-ho!"

Miss Nell did not like this at all, though she did not object to laughing at others.

"Well, what are they?" she asked indignantly. "What are they?"

"Pigs;" replied the Captain with a grave face, but there was a sly twinkle of his left eye approaching to a wink. "Those are pigs, missy."

"I don't believe it," cried the young lady in a pet, putting up her shoulders in high disdain. "You're only making fun of me!"

"Hush, dearie, you mustn't be rude," said Mrs Gilmour reprovingly; "but sure, Captain, you shouldn't make game of the child."

"I assure you, I'm not doing so, ma'am," he protested, chuckling though still with much enjoyment. "I've only told her the simple truth. They are pigs, sea-pigs if you like, commonly called porpoises. But, whales, by Jove, that's a good joke, ho-ho-ho!"

This time Nellie laughed too, the old sailor seemed to enjoy her mistake with such gusto; and, harmony being thus restored, they all turned to watch the graceful motions of the animals that had caused the discussion, which, swimming abreast of the vessel, were ever and anon darting across her bows and playing round her, describing the most beautiful curves as they dived under each other, apparently indulging in a game of leap-frog.

The Bembridge Belle was now just about midway between Southsea and Seaview, and close upon the buoy marking the spot where the old Marie Rose, the first big ship of our embryo navy, sank in the reign of bluff King Hal, in an action she had with a French squadron that attempted entering the Solent with the idea of capturing the Isle of Wight. The 'mounseers,' as the Captain explained to Bob, were beaten off in the battle and most of their vessels captured, a result owing largely to the part played by the gallant Marie Rose; though, sad be it to relate, while resisting all the efforts made by the enemy to carry her by the board, being somewhat top-heavy, "she 'turned the turtle' at the very moment when her guns were brought to bear a-starboard, to give a final broadside to the French admiral and settle the action, the poor thing then incontinently sinking to the bottom, where her bones yet lie."

"Not far-off either," continued the Captain, "the Royal George also foundered in the last century, with over nine hundred hands, there being a lot of shore folk in the ship beside her crew. Her Admiral, Kempenfeldt, was also on board, and—"

"Yes," said Mrs Gilmour, interrupting him; "and, sure, there's a pretty little poem my favourite Cowper wrote about it which I recollect I learnt by heart when I was a little girl, much smaller than you, Nell. The lines began thus— 'Toll for the brave, the brave that are no more,'—don't you remember them; I'm sure you must, Captain?"

"Can't say I do, ma'am," he replied—"poetry isn't in my line. But, as I was saying, the Royal George heeled over pretty nearly in the same way as the other one did that I just now told you about; and, I remember when I was studying at the Naval College in the Dockyard ever so many years ago, when I was a youngster not much older than you, Master Bob, being out at Spithead when the wreck of the vessel was blown up, to clear the fairway for navigation. I've got a ruler and a paper-knife now at home that were carved out of pieces of her timber which I picked up at the time."

"How nice!" observed Mrs Gilmour. "A charming recollection, I call it!"

"Well, I don't know about that," replied the Captain, who seemed a little bit grumpy, and was fumbling in his pockets without apparently being able to find the object of which he was in search—"my recollection is not so good as I would like it!"

On Mrs Gilmour looking at him inquiringly, noticing the tone in which he spoke, the truth came out.

"The fact is, ma'am, I've lost my snuff-box," he said apologetically to excuse his snappy answers. "I must have left it in my other coat at home."

He did not give up the quest, however, but continued to dive his hands on the right and left alternately into pocket after pocket; until, suddenly, the cross expression vanished from his face, being succeeded by a beaming smile, followed by his customary good-humoured chuckle.

"I've found it!" he exclaimed triumphantly, producing the missing box from the usual pocket in which he kept it, where it had lain all the time; and, taking a pinch, the Captain was himself again. "By Jove, I thought my memory was gone!"

The porpoises all this while continued their gambols about the steamer, now ahead, now astern, now swimming abreast, one after the other, rolling, diving, and jumping out of the water sometimes in their sport.

They seemed to be having a regular holiday of it; and, tired of leap- frog, had taken to "follow my leader" or some other game. At any rate, they did not think much of the Bembridge Belle, passing and repassing and going round her at intervals, as if to show their contempt of a speed they could so readily eclipse.

"Do you often see them here playing like this?" asked Nellie of the Captain, who was also looking over the side. "Is that the way they always swim?"

"No, missy," said he, with all his old geniality, "not often, though they pay us a visit now and then in summer when so inclined. Their coming now through Spithead is a sign that there's going to be a change of wind."

"Oh!" cried Nell wonderingly. "How strange!"

"Yes, my dear," went on the old sailor, smiling as he looked down in her puzzled face upturned to his, "I'm not joking, missy, as you think. Those fellows are regular barometers in their way; and, if you note the direction towards which they are seen swimming when they pass a ship at sea, from that very point wind, frequently a gale, may be shortly expected."

"I hope we're not going to have another storm," said Nellie, thinking of their late experience. "I don't like those gales."

"No, no, not so bad as that now, I think," he replied, chuckling away. "There probably will be only a slight shift of wind from the western quarter, whence it is now blowing, to the eastward, whither the porpoises are now making off for, as you can see for yourself."

So it subsequently turned out.

The "sea-pigs," as the Captain had at first jocularly termed them, bade good-bye to the steamer and its passengers when they had got a little way beyond No Man's fort, and were approaching shoal water, with an impudent flick of their flukey tails in the air as they went off, shaping a straight course out towards the Nab light-ship, as if bound up Channel.

They had all been so occupied watching the porpoises that they had not noticed the rapid progress the steamer had been making towards her first port of call on the other side of the Solent; and so, almost at the same moment that the Captain called Nellie's attention to the last movements of the queer fish as they vanished in the distance, she shut off her steam and sidled up to Seaview pier.

"Who's for the shore?" cried out the skipper from his post on the paddle-box, as soon as the vessel had made fast, and the "brow," or gangway, was shoved ashore for the passengers to land, without any unnecessary delay. "Any ladies or gents for Seaview?"

The majority of those on board at once quitted the steamer, amongst them being our quintet.

As they were stepping on to the pier, however, a slight difficulty arose in connection with one of their number.

It was about Rover.

"Is that your dog?" asked the collector of tickets of the

Captain, as the retriever darted ahead in a great hurry. "That your dog, sir?"

"No," replied the old sailor, "not exactly—why?"

"Because, if he is, he'll have to have a ticket the same as the rest," said the man. "Dogs is half-price, like children."

"Oh, I didn't know," cried the Captain apologetically, as he put his hand in his pocket and paid Rover's fare, adding in a low voice to Mrs Gilmour, while they were ascending the steps from the landing-stage to the pier above, "I do believe that rascal thought I meant to cheat him and smuggle the dog through without paying, the fellow looked at me so suspiciously."

"Perhaps he did," replied she laughing. "You know you are a very suspicious-looking gentleman."

"Humph!" he chuckled. "I think Rover intended to do him, though. He squeezed himself past my legs very artfully!"

"He did, the naughty dog," said Nellie, who, with Bob, had been much amused by the little incident. "He's always doing it in London at the railway-stations whenever we go by the underground line; and papa says he wants to cheat the company. He comes after us sometimes, and jumps into the railway-carriage where we are, when we think him miles away and safe at home! Did you ever hear of such a thing, aunt Polly?"

"No, dearie," she answered as they all stepped out briskly along the rather shaky suspension bridge connecting the pier with the shore, which oscillated under their feet in a way that made Mrs Gilmour anxious to get off it as quickly as she could to firm ground. "Rover is a clever fellow, sure!"

"He's a very artful dog!" observed the Captain, whereat Rover wagged his tail, as if he understood what he said and appreciated the compliment—"a very artful dog!"

Arrived on shore, presently, the children were in ecstasies at all they saw; for, by only crossing the roadway opposite the land end of the shaky bridge, they at once found themselves within the outlying shrubbery and brushwood of Priory Park, which the kindly proprietor freely threw open for years to the public, without post or paling interfering with their enjoyment, until the vandalism and vulgarity of some cockney excursionists, who wrought untold destruction to the property, led to the rescinding of this privilege!

Although touching the sea, the waters of which lapped its turf at high tide, when once within the park, it seemed to Bob and Nellie as if they were miles away already in the heart of the country; so that, accustomed as they had been only to town life, it may be imagined how great the change was to them in every way.

As for runaway Dick from Guildford, who had been familiarised to rustic scenes from his earliest infancy, he could see no beauty in the various objects that each instant delighted the little Londoners' eyes and ears; for, like the hero of Wordsworth's verse, "the primrose by the river's brim" was but a primrose and nothing more to him!

To Bob and Nellie, however, the scene around, with its salient features, disclosed a new world.

There were great, nodding, ox-eyed daisies that popped up pertly on either side, staring at them from amidst wastes of wild hyacinths and forget-me-nots that were bluer than Nellie's witching eyes.

Pink and white convolvulus hung in festoons across the bracken-bordered little winding pathways that led here and there through mazes of shrubbery and undergrowth, under the arched wilderness of greenery above.

Rippling rivulets trickling down from nowhere and wandering whither their erratic wills directed, their soft, murmuring voices chiming in with the gayer carols of the birds.

Amongst these could be distinguished the harmonious notes of some not altogether unknown to them, the trill of the lark on high, the whistle of the blackbird in the hidden covert, the "pretty Dick" of the thrush, and the "chink, chink!" of the robin and coo of the dove, mingled with the sweet but subdued song of the yellow-hammer and sharp staccato accompaniment of the untiring chaffinch; while, all the time, a colony of asthmatic old rooks in the taller trees of the park cawed their part in the concert in a deep bass key at regular intervals, "Caw, caw, caw!"

Bob and Nellie were so delighted and unsparing of their admiration of everything they saw and heard, that Dick fell to wondering at the pleasure they took in things which he held of little account.

If unappreciative, however, Dick was of some service in telling Nellie the names of the principal wild-flowers; while he rose high in Bob's estimation by his lore in the matter of birds' nests, of which the ex- runaway from the country, naturally, could speak as an expert.

Touching the feathered tribe generally, he was able to tell them off at a glance, with the habits and characteristics of each, as readily as Bob could repeat the Multiplication Table—more so, indeed, if the strict truth be insisted on, without stretching a point!

"That be a throosh," he would say; and, "t'other, over there's, a chaffy. He ain't up to much now; but wait till he be moulted and he'll coom out foine! I've heard tell folks in furrin' parts vallies 'em greatly, though we in Guildford think nowt of they. I'd rayther a lark mysen, Master Bob."

"Ah!" exclaimed Nellie, who had previously been shocked by Dick's lack of sentiment, much pleased now at this expression of a better taste—"you do like their singing then!"

"Lawks no, miss," replied the unprincipled boy. "Larks is foine roasted!"

Nellie was horrified.

"You don't mean to say, Dick," she cried, "that—that you actually eat them?"

"Aye, miss," he replied, without an atom of shame, "we doos. They be rare tasty birds!"

She gave him up after this, going along by herself in silence.

"This is jolly!" exclaimed Bob presently, when, after getting a little way within the park and ascending the rise leading up from the shore to an open plateau above, he saw a sort of fairy dell below, at the foot of a grassy slope, the green surface of which was speckled over with daisies and buttercups. "Come along, Nell!"

Down the tempting incline he at once raced, with Nellie and Rover at his heels; and, diving beneath a jungle of blackberry-bushes at the bottom, matted together with ropes of ivy that had fallen from a withered oak, whose dry and sapless gnarled old trunk still stood proudly erect in the midst of the mass of luxuriant vegetation with which it was surrounded, Nellie heard him after a bit call out from the leafy enclosure in which he had quickly found himself—"Oh, I say, I see such a pretty fern!"

There was silence then for a moment or so, as if Bob was trying to secure the object that had taken his fancy, the quietude being broken by his giving vent to a prolonged "O-o-oh!"

"What's the matter?" cried Nellie, who had stopped without the briary tangle into which her brother had plunged, noticing that his accents of delight suddenly changed to those of pain. "Are you hurt?"

"I've scratched my face," he said ruefully, emerging from the blackberry-brake with streaks of blood across his forehead and his nose looking as if it had been in the wars. "Some beastly thorns did it."

"Oh!" ejaculated Nellie, in sympathy and surprise; "I'm so sorry!"

"It is 'oh,' and it hurts too!" retorted he, dabbing his face tenderly with his pocket-handkerchief. "However, I shall get that fern I was after, though, in spite of all the prickles and thorns in the world!"

So saying, in he dashed again, stooping under the thorny network, and came out ere long with a beautiful specimen of the shuttlecock fern, which elicited as expressive an "Oh" from Nellie as the sight of his scratched face had just previously done—an "Oh" of admiration and delight. But, as with Bob, her joyful exclamation was quickly followed by an expression of woe.

As she stepped forward to inspect the fern more closely, she put her foot on a rotten branch of the oak-tree, which had become broken off from its parent stem and lay stretched across the dell, forming a sort of frail bridge over the prickly chasm below up to the higher ground on which she stood.

Alas! the decayed wood gave way under her weight, slight as that was, and Nellie, uttering a wild shriek of terror, disappeared from Bob's astonished gaze.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

IN A SAD PLIGHT!

The Captain, who had remained on the plateau above, in company with Mrs Gilmour and Dick—the latter still in charge of the precious hamper— pricked up his ears at the sound of poor Nellie's scream and Bob's expressive cry of alarm.

"Hullo!" he sang out in his sailor fashion— "I wonder what's the row now? By Jove, I thought it wouldn't be long before those two young persons got into mischief when we left them alone together."

"I hope to goodness they haven't come to any harm," said Mrs Gilmour dolefully. "Sure and will you go and say what's happened?"

"Sure an' I'm just a-going, ma'am," replied the Captain, keeping up his good-humoured mimicry of her accent so as to reassure her; adding, as he scrambled down the slope cautiously with the aid of his trusty malacca cane— "You needn't be alarmed, ma'am, 'at all at all,' for I don't believe anything very serious has occurred, as children's calls for assistance generally mean nothing in the end. They are like, as your countryman said when he shaved his pig, 'all cry and little wool!'"

He chuckled to himself as he went on down the declivity, turning round first, however, to see whether Mrs Gilmour appreciated the allusion to "poor Pat"; while Dick, leaving the hamper behind, followed, in case his assistance might also be needed in the emergency.

Arrived at the bottom of the dell the old sailor found it impossible at first to tell what had happened; for, Bob was trying to force his way through the brushwood brake, and Rover barking madly. Nellie was nowhere to be seen, although her voice could be heard proceeding from somewhere near at hand, calling for help still, but in a weaker voice.

"Where are you?" shouted the Captain. "Sing out, can't you!"

"Here," came the reply in the girl's faint treble; "I'm here!"

"Where's 'here'?" said he, puzzled. "I can't see anything of you!"

"I've tumbled into a pit," cried Nellie piteously, in muffled tones that sounded as if coming from underground. "Do take me out, please! There's a lot of wild animals here, and they're biting my legs—oh!"

A series of piercing shrieks followed, showing that the poor child was terribly alarmed, if not seriously hurt; and the Captain saw that no time was to be lost.

"Can you reach her, Bob?" he sang out; "or see her, eh?"

"No, I can't get through these prickly bushes, they're just like a wall!" replied Bob, fighting manfully through to get down to his sister's relief. "I can't see her a bit, either!"

"Humph!"

The Captain thought a moment, rather shirking going amongst the thorns.

"Ha, the very thing!" he exclaimed. "Hi, Rover!"

The dog, who had been barking and running here and there aimlessly, at once cocked his ears and came up to the Captain, scanning his face with eager attention.

"Fetch her out, good dog!" he cried, pointing to the spot where the broken branch of the oak-tree had given way, adding in a louder voice, "Call him, Nellie—call the dog to you, missy."

A cry, "Here, Rover!" came from underneath the tangled mass of brushwood, borne down and partly torn away by Nellie in her fall to the depths below. "Come here, sir!"

No sooner did he hear this summons, faint though it was, from his young mistress, than any uncertainty which may have obscured his mind as to what the Captain meant by telling him to "fetch her out," at once disappeared; and Rover, uttering a short, sharp, expressive bark, to show that he now understood what was expected of him, boldly plunged into the thicket with a bound.

"Chuck, chuck, chuck! Whir-r-r-ur," and a blackbird flew out, dashing in the Captain's face; while, at the same time, another piercing screech came from Nellie— "Ah-h-ah! Help!"

The old sailor was so startled that he jumped back, his hat tumbling off into a bramble-bush.

"Zounds!" he exclaimed. "What the dickens is that?"

In a moment, however, he recovered himself.

"Pooh, what a fool I am!" he said, ashamed of the slight weakness he had displayed, and hoping neither of the boys had noticed it; and then, to show how cool and collected he was, he whistled up the retriever. "Whee-ee-up, Rover, fetch her out, good dog!"

Rover did not need this adjuration, not he.

Even as the Captain spoke, there was a rustling and tramping in the thicket, accompanied by the snapping of twigs; and, almost at the same instant, the dog dashed out from amidst the brushwood with Nellie holding on to his tail.

"Oh my!" ejaculated Dick, rushing to her side; and, with the assistance of Bob, who also emerged from the prickly cavern at the same time, she was got on her feet— "Poor Nell!"

She presented a sorry spectacle.

Never was such a piteous plight seen!

Her face was scratched by the thorns, her clothes torn, and her hat had fallen off like that of the Captain, who had, by the way, in the flurry forgotten to replace his on his head, the venerable article remaining in a sadly battered condition where it had fallen.

On being released, however, from her predicament, Nellie treated the matter much more lightly than might have been expected.

She was a very courageous little girl now that she knew she was in safety.

But she was also, it should be said, blest, too, with great amiability.

"Oh, never mind the scratches," she replied, in answer to the Captain's inquiries. "I'm not at all hurt, thank you."

"How about those wild animals?" asked the old sailor smiling, "eh, missy?"

Nellie coloured up, but could not help laughing at the Captain's quizzical face, as he took up his hat gingerly and put it on.

"I—I made a mistake," she stammered. "I was frightened!"

At that moment, however, very opportunely, Master Rover, who had darted back into the thicket after reclaiming his young mistress, saved her all further explanation as to the unknown beasts that had caused her such alarm by appearing now in full pursuit of an unfortunate rabbit which, putting forth its best speed, escaped him in the very nick of time by diving into a hole on the other side of the knoll, contemptuously kicking up its heels as it did so, almost into his open mouth.

The mystery of Nellie's disappearance was thus satisfactorily solved.

She had fallen into an old rabbit-burrow.

The harmless little creatures, whom she had imagined to be making desperate assaults on her legs and about to eat her up, too, were probably even more frightened than she was!

"Oh—oh, that's one of those ferocious wild animals, little missy, eh?" chuckled the Captain. "I see, young lady."

"Yes, but they frightened me," pleaded poor Nell. "They moved about under my feet, jumping up at me, I thought; and it was so dark down there that I didn't know what they might be. You would have been frightened too, I think, sir!"

She added this little retort to her explanation with some considerable spirit, a bit nettled by the Captain's chaff.

"Well, well, my dear, perhaps you are right," he replied good- humouredly. "I also have a confession to make, missy. Just before Rover cantered up, with you holding on to his tail like Mazeppa lashed to the back of the fiery untamed steed of the desert, a blackbird flew out of your blackberry thicket, brushing past my face, and do you know it startled me so that I jumped back, losing my hat. So, you see, I got a fright too!"

"I see'd yer, sir," said Dick, the Captain looking round as if awaiting comment on his action. "I see'd yer done it!"

"And so did I," cried Bob, the appearance of whose face had not been improved by his struggles with the thorny bushes as he tried to force his way through them to Nellie's rescue. "I saw you too!"

"You young rascals!" exclaimed the Captain, shaking his stick at them. "I thought you were looking at me! I suppose you'll be going and telling everybody you saw the old sailor in a terrible funk, and that I was going to faint?"

"Sure and that's what I feel like doing!" cried Mrs Gilmour in a very woebegone voice, she having only just succeeded in arriving at the scene of action, scrambling down with some difficulty from the top of the slope, the pathway being blocked at intervals by the struggling creepers which twined and interlaced themselves with the undergrowth, trailing down from the branches of the trees above, and making it puzzling to know which way to go. "I couldn't crawl a step further. What with scurrying to catch that dreadful steamboat, and then my fright of hearing the children scream, and now having to clamber down this mountain, I'm ready to drop!"

"Don't, ma'am, please," said the Captain imploringly; "you'll be sorry for it if you do. The ground is full of rabbit-burrows, and there are a lot of nettles about."

"Good gracious!" she exclaimed, looking round her in the greatest alarm, and drawing in the skirts of her dress. "Whatever made you bring me here then, Captain Dresser?"

"Well, ma'am," began the Captain; but Mrs Gilmour, who at that moment first caught sight of Nellie's face, interrupted him before he could get in a word further than, "you see—"

"Oh, my dearie!" cried she, in a higher key, forgetting at once all her own troubles; and, rushing up to Nell with the utmost solicitude, she hugged her first and then inspected her carefully, "what have you done to your poor dear face?"

"Oh, it's not much, auntie," said Nellie, just then busy arranging her dress. "I have only got a scratch or two."

"And your clothes too," continued Mrs Gilmour, her consternation increasing at the sight of the damage done. "Why, your frock is torn to shreds!"

"Not so bad as that, auntie," laughed the girl, but with a look of dismay on her face the while. "It is rather bad though."

"Bad," repeated her aunt, "sure, it's scandalous! And, say your brother, now—whatever have you both been about? His poor face is all bleeding, too!"

"Now, don't you make matters worse than they are," interposed the Captain. "A little water will soon set them both right."

"And where shall we get water here?" she asked. "Tell me that!"

His answer came quick enough, the Captain being seldom "taken aback."

"You forget, ma'am, the little rivulet we passed on our way. Dick," he added, "run and fetch some for us, like a good lad."

Nell had brought with her from home a little tin bucket, which she usually took down to the shore for collecting sea-anemones and other specimens for her aquarium; so, catching hold of this, Dick started off in the direction of the tiny brook they had crossed some little time before, returning anon with the bucket brimming full.

Miss Nell and Bob thereupon set to work in high glee at their extempore ablutions; and, when they had subsequently dried their faces in their pocket-handkerchiefs, both presented a much improved appearance.

With the exception of a few scratches, they bore little traces of the fray, the blood-stains, which looked at first sight so very dreadful, having vanished on the application of the cold water, as the Captain had prophesied.

"There, ma'am," cried he now exultingly; pointing this out to Mrs Gilmour, "I told you so, didn't I? 'all cry and little wool,' eh, ho, ho, ho!"

"That may be," retorted she; "but, water won't mend Nellie's dress."

"Well then, ma'am, I will," replied the Captain. "You'll always find a sailor something of a tailor, if he's worth his salt!"

He laughed when he said this, and his imperturbable good-humour banished the last vestige of Mrs Gilmour's vexation at the children's plight.

"Sure, and you shan't do anything of the sort," she said smiling. "I'll run up Nell's tatters meesilf!" As she spoke she produced from her pocket—a handy little "housewife," containing needles and thread, as well as a thimble, which useful articles the good lady seldom stirred out without; and, sitting down on a shawl which the Captain spread over a bit of turf that he assured her was free from nettles, and ten yards at least from the nearest rabbit-burrow, she proceeded to sew away at a brisk rate on the torn frock of Miss Nellie, who sat herself demurely beside her aunt.

"Will you be long?" inquired the old sailor, after watching her busy fingers some little time, getting slightly fidgety. "Eh, ma'am?"

"I should think it will be quite an hour before I shall be able to make the child decent," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Humph!" ejaculated the Captain, as he always did when cogitating some knotty point, "I'll tell you, ma'am. If it's agreeable to you, ma'am, the boys and I might go on to Brading and see the remains of that Roman villa I was talking about yesterday. That is, unless you would like us to wait till you've done your patchwork there, and all of us go together, eh?"

"No, I wouldn't hear of such a thing," answered Mrs Gilmour, looking up but not pausing for an instant in her task. "I wouldn't walk a mile to see Julius Caesar himself, instead of his old villa, or whatever you call it."

The Captain appeared greatly amused at this.

"I'm not certain that the place ever belonged to that distinguished gentleman," he said. "It is supposed, I believe, to have been the residence of a certain Vespasian, who was governor of the Isle of Wight some period after its conquest by the Romans; but how far this is true, ma'am, I can't vouch for personally, never having as yet, indeed, seen the spot."

"But, I assure you, I've no curiosity to go. I feel much too tired, and would rather sit comfortably here. Would you like, Nell, to go with the Captain and Bob?"

"No, auntie, I'd prefer stopping with you. I want to get some ferns and lots of things after you've mended my dress for me," replied Alice. "I like flowers better than old ruins."

She said this quite cheerfully, as if she didn't mind a bit not going with the boys.

This surprised the Captain somewhat, for he thought she would not like being left behind, and would have looked at all events a trifle cross.

But, seeing how she took the matter, the old sailor's mind was immensely relieved.

"Well then," he cried smiling, with his eyes blinking and winking away, "the sooner we're off, why the sooner we'll be back. Hullo, though, I've forgotten the hamper! Run up, Dick, and fetch it down here."

Off scampered the lad, coming back quickly with the hamper, which he placed carefully by Mrs Gilmour's side.

"There ma'am," said Captain Dresser, "you can look after the luncheon while we're away. Come along, boys—hi, Rover!"

"Oh, please leave him behind," implored Nellie. "We want him."

"What, who?" asked the Captain. "Dick or the dog?"

"Rover," replied Nellie promptly. "He'll protect us in your absence in case anything happens."

"What's that, eh!" quizzed the old sailor. "I suppose you're thinking again of those ferocious wild animals you encountered awhile ago, eh, missy?"

"It's a shame, auntie, for the Captain to tease me so!" exclaimed Nellie, as the chaffy old gentleman went off chuckling, followed by Master Bob and Dick, the three soon disappearing amidst the greenery. "Never mind, though, I have got you, my good doggie; and I shan't forget how you came to my help, nor how glad I was to catch hold of your poor tail, you dear Rover, when you dragged me out of that horrid hole!"

"Be aisy, me dearie," remonstrated Mrs Gilmour, as Nell reached over to hug Rover in a sudden caress of affection, and caused by the sudden movement a breakage of the thread, thus interrupting her aunt's handiwork. "Sure, if you go wriggling about like an eel with that dog, I shall never get your frock mended!"

"All right, auntie, I beg your pardon. I'll be very good now, and promise not to move again till you tell me to."

So saying, Miss Nell resumed her former position, and, making Rover lie down at her feet, remained "as quiet as a mouse," as her aunt acknowledged, until the latter had completed her task of gathering up the rents in the damaged garment that the envious blackberry-thorns had made.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

"THE DEVIL'S BIT."

"Now, me dearie," said Mrs Gilmour, replacing her needle and thimble, with the reel of thread, in her little "housewife," and putting that carefully back into her pocket, "sure, we'll have a jollification on our own account as our gentlemen have left us. We'll show them that we can do without them, sure, when we like."

"How nice, auntie!" cried Miss Nellie, agreeing thoroughly in the sentiment her aunt had expressed, the desertion of the Captain and Bob, in addition to the fact of Dick having been also taken away, having affected the young lady more than she had acknowledged. "What shall we do first to be 'jolly,' as Bob says?"

"I'll soon show you, me dearie," replied Mrs Gilmour. "Sure, you'll say in a minute, Nell. Come now, me darlint, and help me."

Then ensued a pleasant task, one in which Rover especially evinced the keenest interest, the sagacious retriever watching their every movement with an attention that never faltered.

Needless almost to say, the agreeable occupation in question was that of unpacking the hamper containing all the good things which Sarah had packed and Dick had brought from the house for their picnic in the woods.

Aye, it was in the woods; and under the woods, too!

Encircled by a hedge of green shrubbery and thicket undergrowth, amidst which the wild-flowers of the forest stood out here and there, their brightest tints gleaming with a wealth of colouring which nature's gems alone display, Mrs Gilmour selected a nice smooth stretch of velvety turf for their table.

On this, she proceeded to lay a damask cloth, whose snowy whiteness contrasted vividly with its surroundings; for, a clump of silver birches joined in hand-clasp with a straggling oak overhead, sheltering the grass-plot with their welcome shade from the heat of the noonday sun, while, over all, a lofty spreading elm extended its sturdy branches, like outstretched arms, above its lesser brethren below, as if saying paternally, "Bless you, my children!"

Having daintily arranged the contends of the hamper to the best advantage on the open-air banqueting-table, an enormous veal-and-ham pie, their chief dish, in the centre, Mrs Gilmour and Nellie surveyed their handiwork with much complacency.

"Sure, and I don't think a single thing has been forgotten," observed the former with pardonable pride, after a critical inspection of the various viands. "At most of the picnics I have participated in, either the salt, or the mustard, or something else has been left behind; but, to-day, I believe Sarah has remembered everything!"

"Yes, I'm sure she has, auntie dear!" cried Miss Nellie with equal enthusiasm. "Here's the kettle for us to boil; and the teapot, and teacups, too, all ready for our tea, auntie, after lunch."

"She is a good girl, Sarah, and I will reward her for this," said Mrs Gilmour, giving a final pat to the table-cloth after smoothing it down and pulling the corners straight. "I'm afraid, though, dearie, we'll have to wait a precious long time before Captain Dresser and the boys come back; and, laying the table has made me feel quite hungry, I declare."

"So am I, auntie," laughed Nell. "The sight of all the nice things is too much. Let us go away and pick some wild-flowers till the others come back, eh, auntie?"

"But, how can we leave the things here?" questioned the other. "Suppose some stranger, passing by, should take a fancy to our nice luncheon? What a terrible thing it would be to come back and find it gone! Again, too, just think, your friends the rabbits, dearie, might take it into their comical little heads to play at hide-and-seek amongst the dishes, besides nibbling what they liked. How would you like that, eh?"

"Oh, auntie, how funny you are!" cried Nell, quite overcome at the idea of the bunnies making a playground of their well-arranged table-cloth. "But you can trust Rover to guard everything safely if we go away."

"Are you sure, dearie?" inquired her aunt. "Quite sure?"

"Certain, auntie, dear, nobody would dare to come near the spot while he's here, for he'd pretty soon bark, and bite, too! And, as for the poor rabbits, one sniff of his would send them all scuttling back into their burrows. Hi, Rover!" Nell called out, after giving this testimony on his behalf. "Lie down there, good dog, and watch!"

Rover at once cocked an eye and looked in his young mistress's face. Next, he took note of her pointed finger, which she waved in a sort of comprehensive curve embracing the table-cloth with its appetising display of eatables; and then, as if he had made a mental list of all left in his charge, he laid down in a couchant position at the head of the table, if such it could be called, with his nose between his paws, along which his eyes were ready to take aim at any intruder, saying, in their fixed basilisk stare, "Now, you just touch anything, if you dare, my friend. I should like to see you attempt it!"

"We can safely leave now, auntie," said Nellie; whereupon she and Mrs Gilmour strayed off through the bracken, hunting here and there for flowers on their way.

Almost the first thing to catch their sight, before indeed they had left the little turfy dell where their paraphernalia was spread out with Rover in charge, was the pretty rose-coloured blossom of the "ragged Robin," rising out of the grass. A little further off was a cluster of the lilac field madder, named after Sherard the eminent botanist, whose herbarium is still preserved at Oxford. This plant is one of a large family, numbering over two thousand varieties, from which the well-known dye, madder, is obtained, though, of late years, aniline colouring matter has somewhat depreciated its commercial value.

Mrs Gilmour presently picked up something better than either of these, at least in appearance. This was a little blue flower resembling the violet, with glossy green leaves that were its especial charm.

"I declare I've found a periwinkle!" she cried—"such a fine one too."

"Oh, let me look, auntie!" said Nell, peeping into her hand. "Dear me, do you call that a periwinkle?"

"Yes, dearie. Pretty, isn't it? It blooms all the year; and I've seen it down in Devonshire covering a space of nearly half an acre with its leaves and blossoms. One of the poets, not Cowper my favourite, though one equally fond of the world of nature, describes the flower very nicely. 'See,' he says—

"'Where the sky-blue Periwinkle climbs E'en to the cottage eaves, and hides the wall And dairy lattice, with a thousand eyes!'"

"What pretty lines, auntie, so very like the flower!" cried Nell when Mrs Gilmour finished the quotation. "But, do you know, auntie, I thought when you said you'd found a periwinkle, you meant one to eat, like those periwinkles I've got in the aquarium you gave me."

"Did you really, though, dearie?" said her aunt, smiling at her very natural mistake. "It is because you feel hungry, I suppose. You may eat this one if you like!"

"No, no, auntie," laughed Nellie, "I'm not quite so hungry as that! But, oh, auntie, here are some of those lovely big daisies we saw when we first came in the park."

"Those are the daisies that are called the 'ox-eye' or moon daisy, my dear," explained Mrs Gilmour. "You might call them the first cousins— though only, mind you, a sort of poor relation—of the choice marguerite daisy that gardeners cultivate and think so highly of. Here, too, dearie, I see another old friend of mine, whose petals fall just like snow-flakes on the grass."

"It is almost like the honeysuckle," cried Nellie. "How sweet it smells!"

"Like its name, dearie," replied the other. "It is called the 'meadow- sweet'; and a delicious perfume can be extracted from it by infusion in boiling water. The roots of the plant are long tubers, which, when ground to powder and dried, may be used as a substitute for flour, should you have any scarcity of that article!"

"I'd rather have the real sort of flour, though, auntie."

"So would I, too, dearie," agreed Mrs Gilmour. "I only told you in case you may be thrown on a desert island some day, when the information might be of use in the event of your being without bread."

"But, supposing there was no meadow-sweet there either, auntie?"

"Sure that would be a bad look-out," said Mrs Gilmour, joining in Nell's laugh. "I think we'd better wait till you get to the desert island!"

Wandering along, they plucked at their will masses of the wild convolvulus, or "great bindweed," whose white blossoms, while they lasted, added much to the general effect of the bouquet Nellie was making up with her busy fingers from the spoils of coppice and sward.

These, in addition to the flowers they had just picked, now comprised many other natives of the wood and hedgerow, such as the purple bugloss, the yellow iris, the star thistle, the common mallow; and, a convolvulus which was brilliantly pink, in contrast to his white brother before- mentioned. Besides these, Nellie had also gathered some sprays of the "toad flax" and "blue succory," a relative of the "endive" tribe, which produces the chicory-root so much consumed in England, as in France, as a "substitute" for coffee. A splendid sprig of yellow broom and dear little bunch of hare-bells, the "blue Bells of Scotland," with two or three scarlet poppies, a wreath of the aromatic ground ivy and some fern-leaves for foliage, completed her floral collection.

Stopping beneath a group of trees further on, to listen to the song of a thrush, which was so full of melody that they approached him quite close without his noticing them, Nell and her aunt were amused by seeing two rooks quarrelling over a worm which they had both got hold of at the same time, one at either end gripping the unfortunate creature; and gobbling, and tugging, and cawing, at once!

One of these rooks had a white head, which he seemed to cock on one side in a strangely familiar way to Nell.

"He's just like the Captain!" she exclaimed, tittering at the fancied resemblance. "Look, auntie, why he actually seems to wink!"

"I declare I'll tell him!" said Mrs Gilmour, enjoying the joke none the less at the fancied resemblance. "Sure he'd be hoighly delighted."

Then, as they wound round back to the dell through the dense shrubbery, they re-crossed the little rivulet which they had twice passed over before.

On the banks of this, although it was too small almost to have "banks," properly speaking, Mrs Gilmour pointed out to Nell the "great water plantain," with its sprigs of little lilac blossoms and beautiful green leaves, like those of the lily of the valley somewhat. The plant is said to be used in Russia as a cure for hydrophobia, the good lady explained; though she added that she could not vouch personally for its virtues.

Not far from this, too, they found another very curious plant, called in some places the "cuckoo pint," and in others the "wake robin," or, more commonly, "lords and ladies." The leaves of this are of a glossy dark- green and the flower very like the leaf; only, more curved and tinted inside, with a hue of pale buff that becomes pinkish at the extremities, the centre pistil being of the same colour. It belongs to the arum family.

Following the course of the brook, Nellie, a little way on, spied out a regular bed of the forget-me-not; when Mrs Gilmour told her the old legend connected with the flower.

How a knight and a lady were sitting by the side of a river; and, on the lady expressing a desire to have some of the bright blue blossoms "to braid in her bonny brown hair," the gallant knight at once dashed in the stream to gratify her wishes. He secured a bunch of the flowers; but, on turning to regain the shore, the current overcame him; and, as the old song goes—

"Then the blossoms blue to the bank he threw, Ere he sunk in the eddying tide; And 'Lady, I'm gone, thine own love true, Forget-me-not,' he cried.

"The farewell pledge the lady caught; And hence, as legends say, The flower's a sign to awaken thoughts Of friends who are far away!"

"How nice!" cried Nellie— "How very nice!"

"Not for the poor knight, though," said her aunt. "However, here, dearie, is another plant not quite so romantic, the old brown scabious, or 'turf-weed.' It is a great favourite with bees, while its roots are supposed to have valuable medicinal properties, which the country people well know and estimate at their right worth. In some places they call it the 'Devil's bit'!"

"How funny!" interposed Nellie. "Why do they give it such a strange name?"

"Yes, it is rather a strange title; but I read once somewhere that the story about it is, that the Spirit of Evil, envying the good which this herb might do to mankind, bit away part of it and thence came its name, 'Devil's bit.'"

"Really, auntie," said Nell. "Does it look as if it had been bitten?"

"Yes, the root does," she replied. "But, come, dearie, we must get back now as fast as we can, or Captain Dresser and the boys will be there before us and eat up all the luncheon!"

Without stopping to look at any more flowers or curious plants, they retraced their steps towards the dell, Nellie humming the last line of the song of the forget-me-not, which she was trying to learn by heart— "Of friends who are far away! Of friends who are far away"—when, suddenly, they heard Rover's bark ringing through the woods, its echoes loud and resonant, like the sound of a deep-toned bell.

"Come on, dearie," called out Mrs Gilmour, who was in advance, quickening her pace as she spoke, "come on quick, dearie! There's some one making off with our lunch; and, just think how hungry we are!"

"Don't fear, auntie," said Nell reassuringly behind her; "Rover will not let any one touch it, you may be certain!"

Nevertheless, she hurried after Mrs Gilmour; and both arrived together, well-nigh breathless, at the spot where they had left their feast so nicely laid out.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

A PICNIC UNDER DIFFICULTIES.

They need not have been alarmed.

Indeed, had she but given herself time for reflection, Nellie must have known this without any further assurance than the faithful Rover's bark, which would have been of quite a different tone had any stranger or suspicious person invaded the spot he was left to guard.

In such case, the good dog would have growled in the most unmistakable manner, besides giving warning of there being danger ahead by a different intonation of his expressive voice.

He did not growl now, however, although he who had invaded the sacred picnic ground where their provender was so lavishly displayed was, in one sense, a stranger, being not one of the original members of the festive party who had set out from "The Moorings."

The reason for this was that the new-comer, really, was not a real "stranger" in the sense of the word. The intruder was, in fact, Hellyer, the coastguardsman, whom Rover had seen only so recently as that very morning, when of course master doggie had accompanied Bob to the beach for his bathe; and so, naturally, there was every reason for his receiving Hellyer in a friendly manner. Hence, his bark, alarming though it might have sounded at the first go off to Nell and her aunt, was found now to have been a bark of recognition and joy and not one of warning.

Mrs Gilmour felt such a sensation of relief at the sight of Hellyer that her feelings prevented her from speaking. As she told Nell afterwards, she "couldn't have uttered a word to save her life"; and there she remained, "staring at the poor man," to use her own expression, and one that savoured thoroughly of her country, "as if he were a stuck pig!"

Hellyer, however, did not remain dumb.

"Beg pardon, mum," said he respectfully, doffing his sailor hat and touching his forehead with his forefinger in nautical salute; "but, 'ave you seen the Cap'en anywheres about here, mum?"

"You mean Captain Dresser, I suppose?" replied Mrs Gilmour, recovering her loss of speech at the sound of his voice, at least so it seemed; the good lady answering the coastguardsman's question in her usual way, by asking him another!—"Eh, what, my man?"

"Yes, mum. I've a message for him from our commander, mum; and they told me at the house as how he were over at Seaview, so, mum, I comes across by the next boat."

"Well, he isn't very far-off, Hellyer," said Mrs Gilmour smiling; "I didn't recognise you at first, sure, I was in such a terrible fright on hearing the dog bark, least somebody was making off with our luncheon. I'm really glad it's only you."

"And I'm glad, too, mum."

"So glad you're glad I'm glad!" whispered Nellie to her aunt, quoting something she had seen in an old volume of Punch, and going into fits of laughter. "Eh, auntie?"

"Hush, my dear," said Mrs Gilmour reprovingly, but obliged to laugh too in spite of herself, although she tried to hide it for fear Hellyer would think they were making fun of him; and she turned to him to say, "We expect the Captain, Hellyer, every minute. Why, here he is!"

There he was, most decidedly; and he soon made his presence known.

"Hullo, you good people!" he shouted, while yet some little distance off, as he made his way down the slope followed by Bob and Dick, "I hope you've got something for us to eat, for we're all as hungry as hunters."

"Come on," answered Mrs Gilmour, "everything is ready, and Nell and I are only waiting for you loiterers to begin."

"Loiterers, indeed!" retorted the Captain good-humouredly, as he hobbled along with some difficulty by the aid of his stick down the uneven path, "you would loiter too if you had my poor legs to walk with! Never mind, though, here we are at last; and, I tell you what, ma'am, that table- cloth there and the good things you've got on it is the prettiest sight I've seen to-day."

"What!" exclaimed Mrs Gilmour. "Prettier than the Roman villa?"

"Hang the Roman villa! I beg your pardon, ma'am, but the word slipped out unawares."

After this apology for his somewhat strong expression, the old sailor was proceeding to give the reason for his condemnation of the archaeological remains he and the boys had been to see, when he noticed Hellyer standing by in an attitude of attention.

"Why, man," he cried, "what brings you here?"

"I've got a letter for you, sir," replied Hellyer, handing an envelope over to him, and saluting him in the same way as he had done Mrs Gilmour just before. "Here it is, sir!"

"Humph!" ejaculated Captain. Dresser, opening the missive and running his eyes over the contents. "Here's some good news for you, Master Bob."

"Oh?" said the latter expectantly. "Good news, Captain?"

"Yes," went on the old sailor, "my friend, Commander Sponson, of the Coastguard, writes to me to say that one of the new ironclads is going out of harbour next week on her trial trip; and, if you like, you shall have a chance of seeing what sort of vessel a modern ship of war is."

"Oh thank you, Captain Dresser, that will be jolly!" said Bob, his face colouring up with pleasure. "But, will she fire her guns and all?"

"Certainly," answered the other, "big guns, little guns, torpedo-tubes, and the whole of her armoury! Besides, my boy, you'll be able to see her machinery at work, as she will try her speed on the measured mile; and then you can ask one of the engineers all those puzzling questions you bothered my old brains with when we were on board the steamer this morning."

"That will be jolly," repeated Bob; "and—"

"There, there," cried the Captain, interrupting him, "I won't say another word now, I'm much too famished to talk. Mrs Gilmour, what have you got for a poor hungry creature to eat, eh, ma'am?"

"Anything you like," she responded with a smile. "Pray sit down and begin."

"I will," said he, seating himself with alacrity; and turning to the coastguardsman, he added— "I suppose, Hellyer, you could pick a bit too, eh?"

"Yes, sir, saving your presence. But, only after you and the ladies, sir," was Hellyer's respectful reply; and then, with all the training of an experienced servant, knowledge he had gained in the exercise of his manifold duties during several years' service as the Captain's coxswain, he proceeded to assist Dick in waiting, with an "If you'll allow me, sir."

"Some bread, please," called out the Captain presently. "Any your side, Hellyer?"

Hellyer and Dick both looked about the table, seeking in vain for the required article.

"I can't see none, sit," said the ex-coxswain deprecatingly, giving up the quest after a bit in despair. He seemed, from the way in which he spoke, as if he thought it was his fault that the bread was missing. "There ain't any this side, sir."

Dick's search too was equally fruitless.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs Gilmour, all anxiety. "Look in the hamper again. Sure, we must have forgotten to take it out."

But there also, alas! no bread was to be found.

The Captain could not help laughing at Mrs Gilmour's face of dismay; while Nellie clapped her hands in high glee.

"Oh, auntie," she cried, "I thought you said just now when we were spreading the cloth that nothing had been forgotten, and how good Sarah was to think of everything. Oh, auntie!"

"Oh, auntie!" chorussed Bob, joining in the general laugh. "Fancy forgetting the bread!"

"Aye, to leave out the staff of life, of all things!" put in the Captain, having his say. "I hope 'the good Sarah' has not remimbered to forgit anything more importint, sure!"

"I won't have you mimicking me," expostulated Mrs Gilmour, although she took their joking in very good part. "Sure, mistakes will happen sometimes, and there are biscuits if you can't have bread."

"All right, all right," said the Captain soothingly, "I dare say we'll get along very well as we are. Don't worry any more about the matter, ma'am. We've got your excellent piecrust, at any rate, and that's quite good enough for me."

He chuckled still, though, for some time; and he chuckled more presently, when something else, quite as important as the bread, was discovered also to be missing.

The discovery came about in this wise. Before sitting down with the others, Bob had rigged up in gipsy fashion, on three forked sticks, a little brass kettle, which he had specially asked his aunt to have put with the other picnic things, in order to carry out thoroughly the idea of "camping out" as he had read about it in books; and, besides slinging the kettle artistically in the way described, he also filled it with water from a stone jar which they had brought with them, as a precaution in the event of their not being able to get any of drinkable quality where they intended making a halt, Mrs Gilmour expressing some little repugnance to his taking any out of the brook, although they had been glad enough previously to use it for washing their scratched faces. She said it had too many dead leaves and live creatures in it for her taste.

Under the filled kettle, too, Bob had lit a fire, for which Nell and Dick collected the sticks; and, long before luncheon was done, this was blazing up quite briskly, and the kettle singing away at a fine rate.

By and by, when the Captain declared he couldn't eat another morsel, and Bob and Nellie also had had enough, Mrs Gilmour heaped up a couple of plates with the remains of the veal-and-ham pie for Hellyer and Dick, who had all this time been busily employed ministering to their various wants, and now retired some little distance off to enjoy their well- earned meal.

Then came Bob's turn for action.

"The kettle is boiling, auntie," he cried out, poking fresh sticks in the fire, which crackled and spitted out as the sap in pieces of the greener wood caught the heat, the smoke ascending in a column of spiral wreaths, and making Bob's eyes smart on his getting to leeward of the blazing pile. "Shall we have tea now?"

"Yes, my dear boy," said she in a very pathetic voice. "Do, please, make it as quick as you can, I feel quite faint for want of some, as it is long past the time for my usual afternoon cup."

"All right, auntie," replied Bob, bustling about with great zeal, "I will get it ready in a jiffy. But, where's the tea?"

"It's in the teapot, I suppose, my dear; and you'll find that in the hamper with the teacups. Nellie and I thought we wouldn't unpack them until they were wanted."

Nell, who had been sitting between her aunt and the Captain, on hearing her name introduced, at once got up to help Bob; but in spite of every search, neither of them could find the tea.

As in the case of the bread, the "good Sarah" had forgotten it; for, neither in teapot, teacups or elsewhere could the tea be seen!

"Well, ma'am!" exclaimed the Captain on hearing the painful news. "That bates Banagher, as one of your countrymen would say."

"I'm sure nobody could be more sorry than I am," pleaded poor Mrs Gilmour, whom this second mishap completely overwhelmed, "I did so long for a cup of tea!"

"Well, well," said the Captain when he was able to speak, after a series of chuckles that made him almost choke, "the next time that a picnic's in the wind I'd take care, if I were you, to overhaul your hamper before starting, to see that nothing is forgotten."

"It's all 'that good Sarah,' auntie," cried Bob slily; and, then, they all had another laugh, the misfortunes of the day being provocative, somehow or other, of the greatest fun. "Oh that 'good Sarah'!"

It appeared as if Mrs Gilmour would be the only sufferer in having to go without her tea: but, at this critical point, Hellyer came to the rescue.

"Beg pardon, mum," said he, stepping up to her with a deferential touch of his forelock; "but I knows the woman in the keeper's lodge where you comed in, and I thinks as how I could borrow a bit o' tea from her, if you likes."

"Thank you very much, if it's no trouble," replied Mrs Gilmour, hailing the offer with joy, "I certainly would like it."

Hardly waiting to hear the termination of her reply, the thoughtful follow darted off along the winding path through the shrubbery by which they had gained the pleasant little dell; returning before they thought he could have reached the keeper's lodge with a little packet of tea. This Miss Nell took from Hellyer and at once emptied into the teapot, while Bob attended to the kettle and poured the boiling water in; so that Mrs Gilmour was soon provided with the wished-for cup of her favourite beverage.

The good lady's equanimity being now restored, she proceeded to question the Captain about the Roman villa at Brading.

"But, what did you see after all?" she asked; "you haven't told us a word yet."

"Oh, don't speak about it, ma'am," he replied grumpily. "It's a regular swindle."

"But, what did you see?" she repeated, knowing his manner, and that he was not put out with her, at all events. "I want to know."

"See?" echoed the Captain, snorting out the word somehow with suppressed indignation. "Well, ma'am, to tell you the truth, we saw nothing but some fragments of old pottery—"

"Just like broken pieces of flower-pots, auntie," interrupted Master Bob in his eagerness. "The same as you have at the bottom of the garden."

"Yes," continued the old sailor, "that's exactly what these much exaggerated 'remains' resembled more than anything else, I assure you, ma'am. Of course, all these bits of earthenware were arranged in order and labelled and all that; but I couldn't make head or tail of them."

"Perhaps you do not understand archaeology?" suggested Mrs Gilmour, smiling at his description. "That's the rayson they didn't interest you, sure!"

"P'r'aps not, ma'am," he replied with the utmost good temper. "I fancy I know something of seamanship and a little about natural history, but of most of the other 'ologies I confess my ignorance; and, for the life of me, I can't see how some people can find anything to enjoy in the old pots and pans of our great-great-grandfathers!"

"You forget the light which these relics throw on the manners and customs of the ancients," argued the other. "There's a good deal of information to be gleaned from their mute testimony sure, me dear Captain."

"Information?" growled the Captain. "Fiddlesticks! And as for the manners and customs of our ancestors; why, if all I have read be true, they were uncommonly similar to the account given by a middy of the natives of the Andaman Isles, as jotted down in his diary, 'manners, none—customs, beastly!'"

"That's shocking," exclaimed Mrs Gilmour, laughing. "But the criticism will not apply to the Romans, who were almost as civilised and refined as ourselves."

"And that's not saying much!" said the Captain with one of his sly chuckles. "Faith we haven't any to boast of!"

"Speak for yourself," she retorted, "sure that's a very poor compliment you're paying me."

"Present company always excepted," he replied, with an old-fashioned bow like that of a courtier. "You know I didn't allude to you."

"I accept your apology, sir," said she with equally elaborate politeness. "I would make you a curtsy if I were standing up, but you wouldn't wish me to rise for the purpose. Did you not see, though, anything at all like the ruins of a Roman villa or house at Brading?"

The Captain took a pinch of snuff, as if to digest the matter before answering her question.

"Well, ma'am," he began, after a long pause of cogitation, "we were shown some bits of brickwork, marked out in divisions like the foundations of a house: and a place with a hole in the floor which, they said, was a bath-room. We also saw a piece or two of tesselated pavement, with a lot of other gimcracks; but I certainly had to exercise a good deal of fancy to imagine a villa out of all these scattered details, like the Marchioness in Dickens' Old Curiosity Shop, which I was reading the other day, 'made believe' about her orange-peel wine!"

"Then we didn't lose much by not accompanying you?" she remarked. "I was rather sorry afterwards I was unable to go."

"Lose anything?" he repeated with emphasis, "I should think not, indeed! If my poor legs could speak, they would tell you that you've gained 'pretty considerably,' as a Yankee would say, by remaining comfortably here. Hullo, missy, what a splendid posy you've got there!"

"Yes, are they not nice?" replied Nellie, on the Captain thus turning the conversation to her collection of wild-flowers, some of which she had arranged tastefully in a big bunch and placed them in her tin bucket filled with water to keep them fresh. "Aunt Polly helped me to gather them."

"I dare say she told you their names and all about them at the same time, my dear."

"Oh yes, Captain Dresser," said Nellie. "She told me lots."

"Ah!" ejaculated the Captain, heaving a deep sigh of regret. "If I only knew as much as your auntie does of botany, missy, what a clever old chap I should be!"

"Don't you believe him, Nell!" cried Mrs Gilmour deprecating the compliment. "Captain Dresser knows quite as much as I do about plants and flowers, and a good deal more, too. I only wish he had been here to tell you the story of the 'Devil's bit,' for he would have narrated it in a much better fashion than I did, I'm sure."

"The divvle a bit of it, ma'am!" exclaimed the old sailor, bursting into a jovial laugh at his joke, wherein even the staid Hellyer joined. "But, a truce to your blarney, ma'am; or, you'll make me blush. Allow me to inform you that time is getting on; and, unless we make a start for the pier soon, we'll never catch the steamer and reach home to- night!"



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

WRECKED.

"How's that, sure?" asked Mrs Gilmour. "It's early yet, for the sun's still overhead."

"You forget, ma'am, our old friend up there is rather a late bird at this time of year," replied the Captain. "He hasn't crossed the line yet, you know."

"Well, then," argued the good lady, who was sitting at her ease on a pile of shawls and wraps, enjoying a second cup of tea which Nell had just poured out for her, "where's the hurry?"

"Oh, pray take your time, ma'am, I wouldn't like to hasten your movements for worlds, you look so comfortable!" said the old sailor satirically. "Perhaps you'd allow me to mention, however, just in a friendly way, that it is now half-past five o'clock, and the steamer starts at six!"

This made Mrs Gilmour jump up so suddenly that she spilt her tea, which made them laugh; and all set to work in a merry mood to collect their traps for the return journey, the good lady saying she would "never forgive the Captain" for not telling her the time before.

The coastguardsman had to shoulder the hamper when packed, as well as carry the empty water-jar; for, both Bob and Dick, whose respective burdens these had previously been, had rushed off soon after luncheon and when all interest in making a fire and boiling the kettle had ceased, down to the shore, where presently the truants were discovered.

They were wading in the sea, without their shoes and stockings, in high glee, and hunting amongst the rocks for anemones and corallines for the aquarium, having already nearly filled with specimens Nellie's useful little tin bucket, from which her poor nosegay had been ruthlessly removed.

"Hullo, you boys!" sang out the Captain on catching sight of them, after consulting his watch; "you'll have to come out of that at once. Time's up, for the steamer will be due in another five minutes. Look sharp!"

"Do stop a moment," answered Bob, just then busy at the base of a rock close by the pier, which was nearly awash with the incoming tide, "I've found such a jolly sea-anemone here. Come and see it, please, Captain."

"Are you sure it's not a weed?" called back the old sailor a trifle impatiently. "We can't waste any time on rubbish!"

"Of course not; I should think I ought to know an anemone by now, sir!" cried Bob, rather indignant at being supposed capable of making such a mistake, albeit his knowledge on the subject, it must be confessed, was but slight and only lately acquired. "It is coloured beautifully, and looks like a purple chrysanthemum."

"By Jove!" exclaimed the Captain, forgetting the steamer and his fatigue alike as he hurried towards the spot where Bob was paddling in the water and Dick standing close by, bucket in hand. "Why, it's the very thing I've been hunting for, missy, to set off your aquarium."

"Mind you don't get your feet wet!" called out Mrs Gilmour, in great solicitude, as he went off in keen ardour to assist the boys in securing the prize, the good lady adding, as Nellie scampered after him, she contenting herself with remaining higher up on the shore: "Take care, my dearie! I don't want to have you laid up, with your father and mother coming down in a few days, when I want you to look your best."

"Never fear, I'll take care of her and myself too!" sang out the Captain, who by this time, hopping from rock to rock, in which operation he was closely followed and imitated by the giggling Nellie behind him, had reached the boulder where Bob was. "Keep close to me, missy."

"Don't touch it for a little while, my boy, I want your sister to see it expanded, and it will close up if you go poking it about. Look, Miss Nell!" he continued, pointing it out to her with the end of his malacca cane, "The sun is just shining on it through the water, and you can sea its colours of pink, purple, and orange. This is one of the actinea, or 'anthozoa,' so-called from two Greek words meaning 'living flowers.' A pretty name, missy, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Nellie. "It reminds me of a fairy tale aunt Polly told me of the different flowers in the garden having a party and talking together."

"Precisely, my dear; only the anthozoa can't talk!"

"But, oh, how pretty this sea-anemone is!" cried she in ecstasies, not noticing his little bit of satire. "It is wonderful!"

"It is, my dear," replied the Captain; "although it's one of the commonest forms of the actinea family. As Bob said just now, it is very like a chrysanthemum; and, if anything, more beautiful, which you can see for yourself before we try to shift its lodging. It is called by a fearfully long scientific name, which to my mind does a positive injury to the poor beast. What do you think of such a jaw-breaker as 'mesembryanthemum,' eh?"

"Oh!" ejaculated Nell, "what an awful word! I'm sure I shall never be able to remember it."

"You must, missy, if you want to describe properly the inmates of your aquarium, where this gentleman is now going to make a move for. Now, Bob," went on the Captain, turning round to the boys, who were anxiously waiting, all eagerness to commence proceedings, "put that knife of yours, that you have been brandishing all this time, carefully under the base of the poor beggar, and try to peel him off, as I see the rock is too smooth for us to break away. Mind you don't touch the animal with the sharp point, though; for the slightest scratch will kill him."

Nellie watched Bob with eager attention from the top of the boulder; while Dick held the little tin bucket below the sea-anemone, so as to catch it as soon as it had been separated from the rock. At the first touch of Bob's knife, the anemone shrunk in, showing nothing but a row of blue turquoise-like beads around its top or mouth; the rest of the animal appearing to be but a dull lump of jelly, all its vivid colours and iridescent hues having vanished on the instant of its being assailed by Bob with that formidable weapon of his.

"It's wounded!" cried Nellie impulsively. "Don't hurt it, Bob, poor thing!"

"It's all right, missy," said the Captain, consolingly. "It always shrinks like that when any one interferes with it. But, look sharp, Bob, there's your aunt waving her handkerchief like mad from the pier- head to say that the steamer's coming in; and, by Jove, there she is, rounding the point!"

They did look sharp; the boys, after the anemone was secured, scampering ashore in extra high spirits on account of the old sailor telling them that they had no time to put their shoes and stockings on, and would have to go on board the Bembridge Belle without them, like a pair of mudlarks.

The Captain hurried, too, jumping from rock to rock and boulder to boulder, a precaution now even more necessary than before, from the tide having risen considerably even during their short delay and being now nearly at the flood.

Sure-footed himself as an old sailor, though holding Nellie's hand to prevent her slipping, he found time, in spite of his hurry, to point out to her, growing on the beach under the low cliff, beyond where the keeper's lodge stood, a solitary specimen of the "sea cabbage," whose bright yellow flowers and fleshy green leaves, he suggested, would be an addition to the general effect of her bouquet, which, by the way, Mrs Gilmour had taken charge of while she went anemone-gathering, after this had been discarded from the bucket.

"It isn't bad eating, either, when on a pinch for green stuff," added the old sailor; "and I've seen boys hawking the plant about for sale at Dover. But, let us push ahead, missy—run, boys, run, the steamer's alongside!"

With their shoes and stockings slung over their shoulders, Bob and Dick pattered along the shaky suspension bridge to the pier in advance, making good way in their bare feet; but, old as he was, the Captain was not far behind, going at a jog-trot that made Miss Nell step out to keep pace with him.

However, they were not sorry when they reached the pier-head, for, all the while they were running, the steam-whistle of the Bembridge Belle was screeching away, as if telling them they would be too late, and threatening to start off without them if they did not hurry.

"Just did it!" gasped the Captain, setting foot on the gangway and jumping on board, dragging poor Nellie almost in as breathless a state after him, Bob and Dick having already preceded them. "By Jove, it was a near squeak, though!"

"Sure, it's your own fault you're not cool and comfortable like mesilf," said Mrs Gilmour, whom Hellyer had escorted to the pier. He had, likewise, secured a good seat for her in the stern-sheets of the boat, as the Captain had previously done; and here she was now snugly ensconced when the late-comers arrived— "How hot you do look, to be sure!"

"Humph!" growled the Captain, not making any further reply to her rather exasperating remark until he had finished mopping his flushed face with a bright bandana handkerchief of the same red hue; when he added grimly, as if somewhat out of temper, "If I'm hot, ma'am, you're cool, that's all I can say!"

Mrs Gilmour, however, was used to his ways and knew how to humour him.

"Now, don't you go pretending you're angry," she said, laughing merrily. "You needn't, sure, for I know better!"

"As you please, ma'am, as you please, ma'am," he replied, adding with his usual chuckle— "I know you are bound to have your own way, ma'am, whether I like it or not!"

They both laughed at this, these little tiffs between them being of frequent occurrence, especially of an evening over the cribbage-board; and, matters being again on a comfortable footing, they turned to the children, who were looking out, as before, over the side at the various objects that presented themselves as the Bembridge Belle ploughed her way back to Southsea.

The steamer passed quite close to one of the harbour forts in the sea, guarding the approaches to Spithead; and, of course, Bob, who with Dick had now again donned his shoes and stockings, wanted to know all about the imposing structure with its frowning guns, by the side of which the boat they were in seemed a veritable cockleshell, although a fairly good-size; vessel.

Equally, of course, the Captain had to tell him what he knew—how the fort was built of solid masonry, sixteen feet thick, with two feet of armour-plating outside that; and how the little fortress, as it undoubtedly was, had a well dug deep down into the sands below the sea, to supply its garrison with fresh-water in the event of communication being cut off with the mainland. To provide against which contingency it was also provisioned and furnished with every requisite to stand a siege.

He was explaining all this, when a large screw-steamer, high in the bows and low in the stern, crossed the Bembridge Belle making for Portsmouth.

"Hullo, ma'am!" cried the Captain, glad to have the opportunity of a sly dig at Mrs Gilmour in remembrance of her previous amusement at his expense, "there's your pig-boat!"

"What!" said she innocently. "I don't understand you."

"The Irish pig-boat, ma'am," he repeated, his beady black eyes twinkling and his bushy eyebrows moving up and down, as they always did when he said anything funny. "It brings your fellow-countrymen over here twice a week."

"You're very complimentary, sir," said she. "Very complimentary, I declare!"

"Not a bit of it, ma'am," he replied, delighted at the idea of her taking his remark seriously. "Don't you, in your 'swate little island' call poor piggy 'the jintleman who pays the rint,' eh?"

"Sure," she retorted with a smile, taking up the cudgels on behalf of her country, "there are more pigs in England than what come over from Ireland!"

"I cry a truce!" exclaimed the old sailor laughing heartily, Bob and Nell, too, as well as Dick, appreciating the joke hugely; "you had me there, ma'am, you had me there!"

The Bembridge Belle was now well across the waterway, rapidly nearing the pier from which they had originally started in the morning, and Mrs Gilmour was just saying what a very enjoyable day they had passed, in spite of all mishaps, while Nellie was priding herself on the grand collection of wild-flowers she had made with her aunt's help, and Bob and Dick busy over the bucket, showing Hellyer the various treasures they had picked up amongst the rocks on the shore; when, all at once, the bows of the steamer struck against something in the channel, with a concussion that threw nearly everybody off their feet—the shock being succeeded by a harsh grating sound as if her hull was gradually being ripped open.

"Good gracious me!" cried out Mrs Gilmour, "what on earth is that?"

Nobody, however, for the moment, attended to her: nobody, indeed, even heard the question; for the scene of quiet enjoyment which the deck had presented the moment before was changed to one of utter confusion, the shrieks of frightened women and hoarse cries of some of the men mingling with the screams of children and the noise of escaping steam, roaring up the funnel.

Captain Dresser had hastened forwards to the forecastle of the ill-fated vessel to see with his own eyes what had happened as soon as the steamer struck, being immediately followed by Dick and Bob, who left Nellie clinging to her aunt in great consternation.

As for the skipper of the poor steamer, he seemed to have lost his head completely, for he was shouting out orders one moment from the bridge and contradicting them the next: while the crew were rushing about the decks aimlessly, one going here and another there, without apparent end or purpose, every one looking bewildered from the want of proper leadership.

"Keep calm, ladies!" the skipper sang out at intervals between his orders to the seamen and firemen, whom the incessant sounding of the engine-room gong had brought up from below. "Keep cool; there's no danger, I tell you!"

He himself, however, appeared so perturbed, that his assurances increased, instead of lessened, the panic amongst the passengers, who huddled together in groups like startled sheep; and Nell clasped her aunt's hand tightly, the two awaiting in great anxiety Captain Dresser's return from his inspection of the vessel forwards.

They were not long kept in suspense.

After a brief interview, which seemed an eternity, the old sailor re- appeared aft.

His face looked very grave.

"I'm sorry for the old Bembridge Belle" he said in a low tone to Mrs Gilmour, so as not to be overheard by the other passengers standing near. "The poor thing has a large hole knocked through her fore compartment, and is filling with water fast!"



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE "GOOD SARAH'S" FORGET-ME-NOTS.

"Tell me, is there any danger?" asked Mrs Gilmour, speaking quite calmly, in spite of her fears; for, although of a somewhat hasty disposition and apt to be put out at trifles, she was possessed of a strong, natural courage, which, as is the case with most of the so- called "tender sex," only displayed itself in great emergencies. "You may disclose the worst. I can bear it!"

"Pooh!" grunted the Captain off-hand, rather impolitely. "There's no 'worst' to tell, ma'am. All on board are quite safe, and will be put ashore securely as soon as the boats come off. My fears are for the unfortunate vessel, the loss of which will be a sad blow to her skipper, poor fellow, as he has staked his all in her!"

"But, Captain," she rejoined, "why do you look so serious?"

"Serious?" he repeated after her, the hard lines in his face at once relaxing—"so would you, too, look serious, ma'am, if you thought of the matter in the same light. You see, I can't help looking upon a ship as a sort of living creature; and to think of a fine boat like this coming to grief in such a lubberly fashion is enough almost to make one cry!"

His eyes blinked furiously as he said this, the bushy eyebrows above moving up and down; and, taking out his bright bandana handkerchief, he blew his nose with vigour, as if to give vent to his emotion,

Nellie, whose pale face had gained a little more colour since the Captain's reassuring words to her aunt, now sidled up to him, catching hold of his hand affectionately.

"But will the poor steamer really be lost?" she inquired timidly; "wrecked, as sailors call it?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so with the pack of nincompoops we've got on board," he growled. "They're talking of beaching her; and if so, with the wind chopping round to the eastwards, as those porpoises you saw this morning told us it will do by and by, for they're unfailing weather prophets always, why, the unfortunate craft will lay her bones on the shingle. She will, at all events, if any sort of a sea get up, or call me no sailor!"

Bob, who on his return from the fore-part of the vessel in company with Captain Dresser had stationed himself again by the engine-room hatchway, here gave a shout.

"They're moving," he cried; "I see the piston going up and down, and the shaft turning round!"

The rapid beat of the paddle-wheels on the water alongside gave testimony to the truth of Bob's statement; but to Nell's surprise, no churned-up foam came drifting by astern as before, and she couldn't make it out.

The paradox, however, was made plain to her by Hellyer, who did not seem to trouble himself much about the mishap, remaining seated on the hamper, which he had placed by the after sponsing of the starboard paddle-box. The coastguardsman, indeed, appeared as unconcerned throughout all the fuss as if he were safe ashore in his own little cabin on the beach; while Rover kept close beside him, as he had done since Hellyer took charge of the hamper which he had brought on board— the dog evidently considering himself still responsible for all the picnic goods and chattels that his young mistress had told him to watch.

"The paddles is backin' astern," replied Hellyer; "and so, miss, their wake drifts for'ard instead of aft. That's the reason, miss, you sees nothing washing by."

But this movement did not long continue, two strokes of the gong in the engine-room being heard as the captain of the steamer moved the brass handle of the mechanical telegraph on the bridge; whereupon, the machinery was suddenly stopped.

Then the gong sounded twice again, the signal being followed by the quick "splash—splash—splash!" of the paddles once more in the water; when Nellie was delighted by seeing the creamy foam tossing up alongside where she and her aunt were now standing again, they having vacated their seats on the first alarm, like others of the passengers.

"By Jove!" muttered the Captain, half aloud. "The fool of a fellow is actually going ahead again!"

"What!" cried Mrs Gilmour— "any new danger?"

"Oh, nothing," he snapped out, evidently very grumpy at things not being done in the way he thought best. "I was only uttering my thoughts aloud, ma'am. If you must know, I think it very risky of our friend the skipper trying to drive the boat ahead when she's down by the bows. Poor chap, I'm afraid he has lost his head, the same as the vessel has hers! Never mind, though, she cannot go very far in this shoal water, or I'm a Dutchman!"

Nor did she.

In less than a minute there was another heavy bump that shook the deck fore and aft, making all the passengers tumble about like ninepins. Bob nearly took a dive through the hatchway of the engine-room, into which he was still peering, and Nellie fell on poor Rover, causing him to utter a plaintive howl; while, as for Mrs Gilmour, she lurched against the Captain as if she were going to embrace him with open arms, treading at the same time on his worst foot, whereon flourished a pet corn that gave the old sailor infinite trouble, which he ever guarded as the apple of his eye.

"O-o-o-o-oh!" he groaned, hopping about the deck on one leg and holding up the injured foot with both his hands, "I knew some further mischief would come from what that idiot of a skipper was doing!"

Meanwhile, the steamboat people on the pier, off which they had grounded only some three or four hundred yards away, seeing the predicament of the vessel, set to work sending off boats to land the passengers.

The first of these reached the little vessel just as she struck the sandbank she had run foul of for the second time; then coming to a dead stop as if she meant now to remain there for good and all.

"Are we to go ashore in one of those?" asked Bob, pointing out the fleet of small boats making for the steamer, besides the two that had already come up to her; some being launched by the watermen on the beach in addition to those sent off from the pier. "What fun to have a boat all to ourselves, as I suppose we shall!"

"Yes, I suppose so, if we are to get to land at all," replied the Captain, who had become a little more amiable, his natural good-humour asserting itself as the pain in his foot somewhat subsided; "I don't see how we can otherwise, unless we swim for it; the vessel is now stuck quite fast with no chance of her moving until she is lightened of her cargo of passengers."

"That will be jolly!" cried Bob. "Why it's just like a regular shipwreck!"

"Ah, my boy," said the old sailor, shaking his head, "if you ever experienced the realities of one, you would not speak so lightly. A shipwreck, let me tell you, is no laughing matter."

"I didn't mean that," explained Bob, "I was only thinking how jolly it would be for us all to have a row, instead of landing at the pier quietly, as we would have done if nothing had happened."

"Sure, and I don't see where your 'jollity' comes in, Master Bob!" observed his aunt, not by any means relishing the prospect. "It may be all very well for you; but I can't say I like the idea of scrambling down the side of the vessel into one of these cockleshells and running the risk of getting drowned."

"Oh, no, you won't, ma'am," rejoined the Captain chuckling again, her comical consternation soothing the last acerbities of his temper. "You shan't drown yourself if I can prevent you, ma'am!"

There was no necessity, however, for the Captain to exert himself especially on her behalf; for, the boats being hauled up in turn alongside and only a proper number being allowed to get into each, no casualty occurred such as Mrs Gilmour dreaded. Thus, in a very short space of time, all the passengers were safely transferred from the stranded steamer to the shore, where a large crowd of sympathising bystanders had now assembled.