"We are seen, we are seen!" he exclaimed, as the ship altered her course directly for us. In a short time she hove-to; a boat was lowered and pulled up to us. We sprang into her. Questions were eagerly asked as to who we were.

"And what ship is yours?" inquired Mr Raglan.

"The Harmony, Captain Falconer," was the answer.

I rejoiced to hear this.

We were quickly on deck, and welcomed cordially as strangers by Captain Falconer, who did not recognise me. I lost no time, however, in making myself known, and in telling him who Mr Raglan was. I need not say how great was his satisfaction on receiving this information. He bestowed all the care and attention he possibly could on the old officer, and treated him as a son would a father.

I had not, while on the island, mentioned Captain Falconer's name to Mr Raglan, who had, therefore, no idea that he was his daughter's affianced husband.

"I consider your friend one of the finest officers of the merchant service I ever met," he said to me, one day. "A noble fellow. I can never be grateful enough for the attention he shows me."

The Harmony was homeward-bound.

As there was no one to do the duty of third mate, Captain Falconer gave me the berth, and much gratified me by saying how well pleased he was with the way I performed my work. The discipline of the ship was excellent, favourably contrasting with that of the Phoebe. Captain Falconer, following the example of her former commander, had prayers every morning and evening in his cabin, and a regular service for the men on Sundays, while he had a supply of excellent books for their instruction.

Mr Raglan was always ready to enter into conversation on religious subjects with the captain, and from the day we got on board he became a diligent reader of the Bible.

We had a quick passage to England. As soon as we reached the Thames, Captain Falconer gave me leave to go on shore, that I might visit my kind friend Mr Dear, who would, I knew, be under the belief that I had been lost.

Mr Raglan accompanied me, as I hoped that Mr Dear would be able to inform him where his daughter was residing. He had left his office when we arrived, and we therefore took a coach and drove to his residence. We were shown by the servant into the drawing-room, while she went to call her master, who was in the garden. The window was open, and we saw him walking along a path, accompanied by two ladies. He soon came into the drawing-room.

"Oh, my dear Laurel!" he exclaimed, in a voice broken by agitation, as he took my hands. "You are as one risen from the dead; we had given you up as lost. My wife will, indeed, be rejoiced to see you; and there is another lady here who will be glad to find that you are in the land of the living. Poor girl, when we heard her history we invited her to stay here, and positively refused to let her leave us."

He said this before he appeared to notice Mr Raglan. I felt somewhat embarrassed as to what to do, but I thought it best to introduce him before Mrs Dear and Miss Kitty came in.

I scarcely knew what effect the sudden announcement that his daughter was actually in his sight might have on the old officer. I resolved, in the first instance, simply to tell Mr Dear that his unknown visitor was a naval officer, who, having been shipwrecked, had come home in the Harmony, and then to get him to leave the room with me, that I might consult him in private. I did as I intended.

"I am very glad to see you, sir," exclaimed Mr Dear. "Pray be seated on this sofa, and excuse me: my young friend here has a word or two to say to me. Come along, Charley," and we left the room.

As soon as we were in the passage I told him who the officer was.

"Bless me!" he cried out, "that is extraordinary. I am, indeed, delighted. Will you go back and tell him that you hope his daughter will soon be with him, and then slip out again, and we will prepare Miss Kitty. I want your assistance, for I am afraid I shall be letting the truth out too soon."

I felt somewhat nervous, but I managed to break the news to my friend, and then, hurrying out. I joined Mr Dear in the garden. We found the ladies seated in an arbour at the further end. Miss Kitty, knowing me at once, uttered a cry of surprise, and ran forward with outstretched hands to meet me.

"I do not believe in ghosts," she said, "or I might have supposed that I saw yours. How did you escape?"

"What, is this Charley Laurel?" cried Mrs Dear, giving me a kind welcome, before I could answer Miss Kitty's question, which she herself repeated.

I soon told them, and this gave me an opportunity of mentioning the shipwrecked officer who had saved my life. I went on describing him, keeping my eyes fixed on Miss Kitty's face, till she exclaimed suddenly:

"Oh, Charley, tell me; is he not my father? And you say he came home with you?"

"Yes," I answered; "and he is even now waiting to see you."

"Oh, take me to him! take me to him!" she cried out.

Mr and Mrs Dear accompanied her to the house, and, leading her to the drawing-room door, left her with her long-lost parent.

I need scarcely say that Captain Falconer next day made his appearance at the house, and before he went away Mr Raglan gladly accepted him as a son-in-law.

I was glad to find that Captain Renton was again to take command of the Phoebe, though I should have preferred sailing with Captain Falconer. He, however, it had been arranged, in consequence of his marriage, should remain on shore for a year or two, to superintend the fitting out of Messrs. Dear and Ashe's ships.

I made two voyages in the Phoebe, and returned on the last as her first mate. So high a character did Captain Renton give me, that my employers promised me the command of a ship they were about to despatch to the West Indies. I passed the short time I was able to spend on shore in visiting Mr Dear and Captain and Mrs Falconer, with whom Captain Raglan, for I was glad to find he was promoted, resided.

My ship, the Ellen, was at length ready for sea. I felt as proud as I suppose most young officers do, when they first assume the command of a fine vessel; and as I surveyed the Ellen, I was satisfied that she was all I could desire.

"You need not be jealous of Falconer," said Mr Dear, who accompanied me on board. "You have now got a wife of your own, and I hope she will prove true and faithful."

Being allowed three mates, I offered the berth of third mate to Dick, who, though no navigator, was as good a seaman as I could desire to have under me.

"I am obliged to you, Captain Laurel, but I am afraid I ha'n't make much of a hand of the quadrant, or managing those chronometer affairs," he answered, modestly; "though I know the stars pretty well, and can dot down what is wanted in the log."

"I won't trouble you about that," I said; "you can manage the men, which is more important. We have a rough lot, I fear."

Dick without farther ado accepted the appointment.

We were bound, in the first instance, for Barbadoes, but expected to visit other islands on our return. We had a fine run across the Atlantic. Though at first I felt a little strange, sitting in dignified solitude in my cabin, I soon got accustomed to it.

The first and second mates were sensible fellows, and learned to esteem Dick for his excellent qualities. He managed the men admirably, and got more work out of them than they could, so that all things went smoothly. He did not abuse them for swearing or coarse language, but, by bringing out his Bible, he got them to listen; and then, pointing to God's Word, asked them whether such and such things could be right in His sight. Thus by degrees they were induced to give up a habit which had become with most of them a second nature.

We had just made the north end of the Caribbean Islands soon after daylight, and were going about, to beat up to our port, as the wind was against us, when the look-out at the mast-head caught sight of a large ship which appeared to be on shore on a reef. Her sails were furled, and she was heeling over greatly. I accordingly stood on, to render her any assistance she might require. As we drew near her, we saw that she was, indeed, hard and fast, while a heavy sea broke on the reef and threatened her with destruction. Through my glass I could see that the crew were employed in lowering the yards, probably for the purpose of building a raft. I, ordering the first mate to stand off the land, lowered two boats. I took the command of one, and Dick of the other, and we pulled towards the wreck. The tide was rising, and as we got near we saw that the breakers were dashing with increasing fury against the ship. A boat crowded with people had got away on the lee side towards the land, and another, attempting to follow her example, was swamped, and we feared that all the people in her were lost. To approach on the weather side was impossible. I therefore directed Dick to follow me, and pulled away to the south'ard, hoping to get round it, as I did not believe that it extended many miles in that direction. We had, however, a long pull, and by the time we got into comparatively smooth water, having passed round the southern end of the reef, I was afraid that the fate of those on board must be sealed. When we again made out the ship, I feared that my worst anticipations had been fulfilled, for the sea broke completely over her. Her masts were gone and her upper works washed away. I got as near as I could, but could distinguish no human being on board. Her crew must either have been carried away by the sea, or made their escape in the boats, or on the raft they were forming, if, as I doubted, they had had time to finish it. Away to the westward rose a rocky island, which, from its appearance, I guessed was uninhabited, and I thought that in all probability any who had escaped would attempt to effect a landing on it. As in their hurry they were not likely to have carried either provisions or water, I determined to pull to the island, to relieve any of the people who might have reached it. As we drew near, I saw that the sea was breaking heavily on the weather shore, but I had no doubt of being able to land on the lee side. We had a long pull before us; but the men exerted themselves, and I still hoped to get back to the ship before night closed in.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

EMILIE.

On landing on the lee side of the island, I climbed to a high point near at hand, whence I could take a glance over the sea to the westward, but could discover no sign of either raft or boats, and therefore concluded that they must have been cast on the weather side; and if so, from the heavy surf which broke against it, I feared few could have scaped it.

However, with Dick and several of the men, I pushed across, carrying ropes and boat-hooks and some of the oars, to try and save any who might be clinging to the neighbouring rocks. We had not got far when I heard a voice hailing, and we caught sight of a man on the top of a rock in the centre of the island, waving to us. "Make haste! make haste!" he shouted, "or you will be too late." The stranger hurried down the rock, and we followed him.

In a few minutes we again caught sight of the sea on the east side of the island. As we were climbing over the rough ground, I saw that a reef extended some distance from the mainland, with wild rocks rising out of it above the foaming waters. Midway between them and the land was a large boat, surrounded by people, some on the reef, others clinging to the boat; while several were at that moment being carried away by the sea, which, sweeping round the rocks, beat with violence against the shattered boat. The men with frantic efforts were attempting to drag her up farther on the reef, as the only hope of saving their lives. Now one poor fellow, now another, was washed away, as the sea swept round over the reef with ever-increasing force. We were hurrying down the rocks, when I saw just below us a young lady, for I could not doubt, from her appearance, that she was such. She had been gazing at the dreadful spectacle, and apparently unable to witness it longer, she sank on the rock, pressing her hand on her eyes, to shut it out. At this moment we were joined by the stranger who had called to us.

"I caught sight of your boat coming towards the island, and was hurrying across, to entreat you to try what you could do to assist our friends," he said. "Help is at hand, Emilie; they may still be saved," he exclaimed, as he made his way to where the young lady was seated.

We got as close to the people as the sea would allow us.

"Hold on to the rope," cried Dick, securing the end round his waist. "I will swim out, and make it fast to the boat."

Fearlessly he plunged into the boiling surf, but was soon carried down far below the boat, and we hauled him back, not without great risk of his being dashed against the rocks.

"I will try it again, and start higher up the shore," he exclaimed, still undaunted.

"Let me go," cried the young stranger; "they are my friends, and I ought to run the risk."

"If I cannot manage it, you shall go the next time," answered Dick, once more plunging into the water.

He swam on directly across the boiling current, which swept him down towards the boat. He had very nearly gained a footing on the rocks, when once more he was carried down, and we hauled him back, utterly exhausted. His bravery had encouraged the rest of the men, several of whom begged that I would allow them to make the attempt.

"I said that I would go next," exclaimed the young stranger, fastening the rope round his waist, and, before I could stop him, he plunged into the water. He buffeted the waves bravely, but his strength was not equal to the undertaking. I trusted that, notwithstanding his light figure and delicate appearance, he would succeed. Every moment was precious, for one after the other the people were being carried away before our eyes, without our having the means of saving them. He had already got a footing on the reef. Just as some of the men were making their way towards him, and he had nearly got up to the boat, a sea lifted him off his feet, and he and those who were near him were swept away. My men and I hauled in the rope, but, unable to guide himself, he was dashed with violence against the rocks, and when we drew him on shore, he was almost insensible.

"Oh, my poor, poor brother!" exclaimed the young lady, who knelt down by his side. "Can nothing be done for him?"

"He will, I trust, recover," I said, "though I fear he is greatly injured. But we must make another attempt to help the poor people on the rock."

"Oh, do so, brave men!" she said, looking up with an imploring glance, her thoughts being evidently divided between her brother and those he had attempted to rescue.

Dick was preparing again to make the attempt. This time he fastened two oars under his arms, with a boat-hook lashed across them, and, supported by this simple sort of catamaran, he at length, by great exertions, reached the rocks, and secured the rope to the bow of the boat, round which the survivors were clinging. Among them were two females. Securing one of them to himself by means of a spare piece of rope, and pushing back some of the men, who were attempting to reach the shore by the rope, he began to make his way along it, resting on the oars. Every instant I dreaded to see him and his burden carried away, but he landed in safety, and we placed the almost senseless lady by the side of her friends.

We had fortunately brought a second coil of lighter rope. As I saw that Dick was exhausted I determined to go myself, and, making the rope fast round my waist, I hauled myself across, as Dick had done, though, from the difficulty I had to hold on, I judged of the danger he had gone through.

As the tide was still rising, I knew that the boat and all clinging to her must shortly be washed off the rock.

The youngest female was still safe. I secured her to my back, following Dick's example, and began hauling myself across, though every moment I expected to be washed away. As soon as she landed, she threw herself into the arms of the young lady whom we had first seen, and, from their likeness, I judged that they were sisters. I was about to return, when I saw one of the men making his way across by the rope, and that others were preparing to follow, not waiting for the assistance which the oars might afford them.

"Oh, my father, my father, is he not coming!" exclaimed the young lady I had brought on shore.

I had observed among the people on the rock a gentleman who had committed the young lady to my charge.

"I will try and save him!" I exclaimed.

At that moment loud shrieks were heard, for the sea had lifted the boat and swept her and all clinging to her off the rock. The rope still held, and my men hauled on it with right good-will. The other rope was still round my waist. I plunged into the water, and swam towards the boat. I caught sight of the gentleman just at the moment that he had been forced from his hold. In another instant he would have been carried away, when, grasping him tightly, I shouted to my men to haul me in. Almost exhausted, I was drawn on shore with the person I had rescued. Of the rest, three were thrown on the rocks, one of whom was carried away before he could make good his footing, while the remainder were swept out to sea. Besides the two we had first seen, only eight were saved. The sorrow exhibited by the ladies and the old gentleman when they saw how severely injured the young man had been in his effort to help them, made me suppose that they were relatives.

"Oh, Henri, Henri!" they murmured, bending over him.

Their accent and the last words they uttered showed me that they were French.

The young man opened his eyes and tried to smile, as if to reassure them.

"I am not so very much hurt," he answered, in a low voice.

Just then I was sure I knew the expression of his countenance; his eyes, too, glanced at my face.

"Are you not Frenchy?" I asked, "My old friend Henri de Villereine?"

"Yes, Charley. I thought I knew you," he answered. "Thank you, thank you, for what you have done!"

His companions looked at me with surprise. "I am an old schoolfellow," I said; "and I am doubly thankful that I have been the means of helping those belonging to him."

There was, however, no time for conversation or explanation beyond this. Having formed two rough litters with our oars and ropes, we placed my old schoolfellow on one and the elder lady on the other, while I and the other gentleman assisting the young ladies, we proceeded back to the boats. The provisions we had brought somewhat restored all the party.

The evening was approaching, and when I looked out for the ship I could but just distinguish her topsails above the horizon. We had a long pull before us, and I feared we should not reach her before dark, and, if so, we might have to spend the night tossed about on the stormy sea. I cheered my men, and they did their utmost. Dick had taken the seamen in his boat, and I had the passengers in mine. They were much cast down at the loss of their companions and the horrors they had gone through.

I found that the young lady who had at first landed was Henri's sister; the other I had saved was Sophie, his cousin; and the old lady and gentleman her father and mother. Thus the whole of one family had been saved, but several other passengers, men, and women, and children on board, had lost their lives.

They belonged, they told me, to the island of Saint Lucia, and were on their way to pay a visit to England, which neither of the young ladies had seen.

Emilie was an intelligent, interesting-looking girl, and appeared much attached to her brother, by whose side she sat, trying to support him in as comfortable a position as could be arranged in the stern-sheets. I was, however, more struck by the gentle and sweet look of Sophie, whose features also were decidedly prettier than those of her cousin, though few girls under the circumstances could have looked attractive; and it may seem strange that I should have thought about the matter, but I had saved her life, and naturally felt an interest in her. Henri, I observed every now and then, gazed at her when he could lift up his head, but she turned away her eyes, as if unwilling to meet his, and then he sank back with a sigh.

While we pulled southward inside the reef, although the sea was somewhat heavy, it was much smoother than outside, and I feared that we might have some difficulty in getting our passengers on board. I had fortunately brought a musket and powder-flask, with some blue lights, from the ship. The sun set before we reached the southern end of the reef, and we had barely light sufficient to steer with any degree of safety round it. At length, however, I judged that I might venture to do so, and we commenced our pull out to sea. The waves broke with a loud roar on the rocks close to us, and I could distinguish the surf rising up like a white wall as we made our way to the westward. I was thankful when I saw it well over the quarter. My men exerted themselves bravely. As soon as we had got to a sufficient distance from the reef, I fired the musket and let off a blue light. There was no answer from the ship. We pulled out still farther, and in half an hour made another signal. My relief was great when, about as I judged a mile away, a blue light burst forth from the ship, showing clearly her rigging and sails as she bore down towards us.

Scarcely an expression of anxiety or alarm had escaped my new friends, although to them the foaming seas, as we made our way over them that dark night, must have appeared truly terrible.

In a short time the ship appeared like a phantom moving over the ocean. I let off another blue light, to show our position. She hove-to, and we pulled up under her lee. As we approached, I ordered a chair to be slung, to hoist our passengers on board. The operation would be a dangerous one.

By the time we were alongside the chair was ready, with lanterns let down on either side of it. The old lady was first sent up, and then his sister and cousin entreated that Henri might go. I secured him in the chair, for he had not strength to hold on. He groaned as I did so, the boat all the time rising and falling, and there was a risk that, before he could be hoisted clear of her, she might be lifted up and strike the chair. This risk, indeed, was run by all the party. I was anxious to get the old gentleman to take his seat next, as I knew that I could with greater ease carry the lighter forms of the young ladies up in my arms. Henri was lifted on deck, and then, almost by main force, I placed Monsieur de Villereine in the chair. As soon as I saw him swinging well out of the way of the boat, taking Sophie round the waist, and telling my coxswain to follow with her cousin, I sprang up the side. It was well that I did so, for at that moment, a sea surging round almost stove in the boat and half filled her with water; but the men were ready, and, hooking on, the falls were let down, and the boat was hoisted up in time to save her being completely knocked to pieces. The party in Dick's boat took but a short time in getting on board, and she also was quickly hoisted up.

While the ship stood off the land, I went down to the cabin to attend to my passengers.

I fortunately had plenty of berths. The steward set to work to get them ready, and the cook meantime was busy in preparing hot soup and arrowroot, and other things which he thought might conduce to the comfort of my unexpected guests. Having served in passenger ships, I was at no loss what to do, and the mates and I turning out our wardrobes, supplied clothing which might serve while that of the party was washed in fresh water and dried.

The night was stormy, and I was obliged constantly to be on deck, but whenever I went below, I visited poor Henri, who was suffering much. I did all I could to relieve him, and directed my steward, who was a trustworthy man, to remain by his side during my absence.

The next day the weather moderated, and I was thankful to find the rest of the party greatly recovered. They all expressed their gratitude to me for the attention I paid to their relative.

"You forget," I answered, "that he is an old schoolfellow, and that I have the greatest satisfaction possible in being of service to him."

"Ah, you must be the friend then of whom he has often spoken to us, who was so kind to him at school," observed Emilie. "We have so longed to see you, to return the kindness you showed him when he was a boy, and we hope to do so, as he said you promised to pay us a visit should you ever come to the West Indies."

I replied that I should be very glad to avail myself of the invitation he had given me, could I manage to do go, but that I feared my duty would not allow me to leave the ship on that voyage.

Henri appeared to get much better during the day. While I sat by him, he repeated the invitation his sister had given me, and entreated me to visit them, saying, his father and mother, he was sure, would be most anxious to see me.

None of the rest of the party suffered much from the exposure and alarm to which they had been subjected.

Within a week we were safely at anchor in Carlisle Bay, on the shore of which, Bridgetown, the capital of the beautiful island of Barbadoes, is situated.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

A HURRICANE.

As soon as the anchor was dropped and the sails furled, I conveyed my passengers on shore, that I might see them comfortably lodged as soon as possible. I had offered to supply them with funds, but Monsieur de Villereine, thanking me cordially, assured me that he was well known to several merchants in Bridgetown, and that he should have no difficulty in obtaining money.

"I should be very thankful, however, if you could convey us to Saint Lucia, as we should prefer sailing in your ship to any other," he observed; "and as I am well known to your consignees, I may, perhaps, arrange the matter with them." I of course replied that I should be truly glad if this could be done, though I could not venture on my own responsibility to go there.

"Oh, but my uncle will easily manage it," observed Emilie, "so we will consider it settled. I should not like to trust my dear brother on board any other ship."

Sophie seemed inclined to speak, but hesitated: though the glance she gave me, I fancied, showed that she hoped I would not decline.

"Oh, you must come, Laurel," said Henri. "My father will, I am sure, be glad to pay any expenses of extra insurance and that sort of thing, so that the interest of your owners will not suffer."

Having seen my friends lodged at a comfortable hotel, I had to return on board to attend to my duties connected with the ship.

I lost no time in discharging my cargo, and was not sorry to find that there would be some delay before the sugar and other produce I was to receive in return would be ready.

I of course visited my friends every day, to see how poor Henri was getting on, and spent as much time with him as I could. They insisted as regularly on my remaining to dine and spend the evening. Every day that I saw the young ladies, I liked them better, and confessed to myself that I had begun to feel more than an ordinary interest for Sophie. Her eyes brightened when I entered, and her manner towards me was so gentle and so confiding, that I could not help fancying that the feelings I had for her were returned. Then I began to ask myself the question, Have I, with the precarious profession I have to depend on, without a name or family, with only one friend able to assist me, any right to attempt to win the affections of a young girl accustomed to all the luxuries of a rich planter's establishment? or is it indeed likely that her father would allow her to marry a person situated as I am? These and similar thoughts occupied my mind; and I determined, the next time I went to the house, to be very cautious in my manner, and, only paying such attentions to her and her cousin as common courtesy demanded, to devote myself rather to her uncle and aunt, or to Henri, who had now sufficiently recovered to be able to join the party in the drawing-room.

The next day, however, when I went to call on the merchants to whom the Ellen was consigned, they inquired whether I should have any objection to carry Monsieur de Villereine and his family to Saint Lucia.

"He has made the necessary arrangements with us, so that, if the ship is ready, you can sail the day after to-morrow."

I tried to look unconcerned, and replied that I should be very glad to do anything to accommodate them.

"We will consider the matter settled then," was the answer; "you can get ready for sea."

I own that I had had my cabins burnished up, and had procured a new dinner and tea service, while I directed the mates to get the ship in as trim order as possible. As soon as the cargo was discharged, the painters had been busy in all directions about her; while Dick, who suspected the truth, got the decks holy-stoned and scrubbed till they looked almost as white as snow.

All things were ready by the day I had been directed to sail, and early in the forenoon I went on shore to escort my passengers on board. They too were in very different guise to that when they came on board after their shipwreck. Sophie looked more sweet and lovely than ever, in the light costume which the heat of the climate required, while Emilie was cheerful and full of conversation, doing her utmost to keep up her brother's spirits. I was sorry to see less improvement in him than I had hoped. He looked pale and ill, though he declared that he had recovered from the injuries he had received when dashed against the rocks.

The weather was fine, and I did not expect to be long in running across to Saint Lucia, which is one of the nearest islands in the Caribbean Sea to Barbadoes. The wind, however, headed us soon after we got clear of the land, and a few hours afterwards it fell a dead calm, and we lay immovable on the glass-like sea. I cannot say that for my own sake I specially regretted this, though, knowing the wishes of my friends, I felt anxious to make the shortest possible passage.

I had an awning rigged, so that the ladies could spend the day on deck, where they sat busy with their needles; for, unlike the Creoles generally, they were evidently good housewives.

"As you may suppose, Captain Laurel, having lost all our things, we have plenty of work before us to make fresh ones," observed Emilie, laughing. "Though as we intended to get rigged out, as you would call it, in Paris, fortunately our loss was not so severe as it would have been on our homeward voyage. Ah, but I am wrong to talk so lightly, when I speak of that terrible event. Still, you understand, that we fancy we can make our own things better than anybody else can make them for us, and therefore you must not expect to find us sitting, like other young ladies, with our hands before us."

Sophie, however, was not so diligent as her cousin, and did not object to come to the side of the ship, and watch the strange creatures of the deep as they swam or floated by. When night came on, and the stars shone forth from the clear sky, each reflected in the deep as in a mirror, she stood with me while I told her their names. I was scarcely aware how time had passed by, when I heard Monsieur de Villereine's voice summoning his niece, and telling her that it was time for her to retire to her cabin.

I was never addicted to whistling for a wind, and certainly should not have done so on that occasion. A breeze, however, came at last, and the Ellen gliding swiftly over the calm sea, we came in sight of that most beautiful and picturesque island of Saint Lucia.

Two lofty heights of a sugar-loaf form, shooting up from the sea, and feathered from base to summit with the richest foliage, were the first objects which attracted our attention. Beyond these rose a range of mountains, running north and south through the island, and broken into the most fantastic shapes. As we sailed along the shore, having the mountains still as the background, here and there appeared the most lovely little caves and bays, fringed with luxuriant cane-fields, and enlivened by the neatly laid-out mansions of the planters; while numerous fishing and passage boats, with their long light masts and lateen sails, were gliding over the calm waters.

"I used to tell you, Laurel, that our island was one of the most beautiful in the world—don't you think so?" said Henri, as, while standing near his sister and cousin, I was watching the shore, and every now and then addressing them.

"Indeed it is. I am not surprised that you are so fond of it, and, could I leave the sea, I should be content to spend my days there," I answered, speaking as I felt.

"Oh, do," exclaimed Henri. "Come and turn planter; we can give you plenty of occupation, and my health as been so bad lately, that I should be glad if you could take my place."

"I am afraid that, having lived so little on shore, I should make but a poor farmer," I answered, laughing.

Sophie looked up at me, and remarked: "The difficulties to be overcome are not very great, I suspect, and I am sure you would soon learn all that is necessary."

"The proposal is indeed a tempting one," I answered; "and yet I love the sea, and should be sorry to abandon it."

"Oh, you can take an occasional trip to England," observed Henri. "Have a ship of your own, and just make a voyage when you get tired of the shore."

Our conversation was interrupted by a shift of wind, which compelled me to issue orders for trimming sails.

The steward then announced luncheon, and I remained some time on deck after my passengers had gone below.

I had observed Dick, who did not often trouble himself about scenery, watching the coast with more than usual interest.

"Do you know, captain," he said, coming up to me, "I have a notion that I have seen this island before. The look of the coast is very like that we sailed along when I was aboard the Laurel, before I picked you up. I shall be able to tell better when we come off the harbour, for then I think I should be sure to know the place again. It will be strange if it should turn out that I am right in my idea, and if so, I would advise you to make inquiries, and learn if any of the families on shore about that time lost a little boy in the way you were lost. Maybe, as the newspapers say, you will hear of something to your advantage; and if you don't, why you won't be worse off than you are now, and you may be very sure that as long as Dick Driver lives, you have got a friend who will stick to you, blow high or blow low."

"I am sure you will, Dick," I answered. "Though perhaps, as many years have passed by since you were last on these seas, you may be mistaken as to the island."

Yet, although I said this, I could not help allowing strange hopes and fears to agitate my bosom. I might discover my parents, or they might be dead, and their successors might be unwilling to acknowledge a stranger coming among them. I could scarcely calm myself sufficiently to go into the cabin. I determined, however, to say nothing about Dick's remarks, but to try and overcome all the hopes which I found rising within me. I apologised for being late to luncheon, on the plea of being detained on deck by duty, and did my best to perform the honours of the table and try to converse in my usual manner. The ladies were eager to know when I thought we should get in.

"The wind is so light that I do not expect to enter the harbour till to-morrow morning," I replied. "I cannot pretend to regret this, as I know my stay will be very short, and it will defer the time when I must bid you farewell."

Sophie looked up at me, and a shade of sadness passed over her sweet countenance. I could not be mistaken. I interpreted her feelings by my own, and just then I would have given a great deal to have had a proper excuse for remaining at Saint Lucia.

Night came on, and the Ellen floated calmly on the moonlit sea. Emilie had insisted on Henri going below, afraid of his being exposed to the night-air: indeed, the trying cough from which he suffered showed how necessary it was that all care should be taken of him.

Sophie still lingered on deck. I invited her to come to the side and watch the moonbeams playing on the waters.

"I know what sailors have to go through," she observed, "but yet I fancy the enjoyments of a night like this must almost recompense them for the tempest and rough seas they have to endure."

"We get so well accustomed to both one and the other. Though acknowledging the beauty of the ocean under all its various phases, whether sleeping as now under the beams of the pale moon, or glowing in the rays of the ruddy sun, we value them less, I fear, than those who only occasionally venture on the world of waters," I remarked.

"Oh, but I am sure I could never look with indifference on such a scene as this," said Sophie, "and should be content to make voyage after voyage to witness it."

However, I do not feel disposed to say what else we talked about. I was young, and said what I certainly did not intend to say. I told Sophie that I loved her, and would never marry any one else. She did not withdraw her hand, and, whispering that I had made her very happy, promised that she would be faithful to me, and that she did not suppose her father and mother would object to me, especially as I was the friend of her cousin.

The time flew by faster than I supposed, as we thus stood talking; Dick, who had charge of the deck, keeping at a judicious distance.

Suddenly the light on the water disappeared, a cloud had obscured the moon; again the light shone forth, and again was shut out; still no wind filled our sails. I knew, however, that it might come ere long. Sophie still lingered by my side. Hitherto the ocean had slept in silence. Suddenly a rushing murmuring sound fell on my ear.

"Hands aloft, and shorten sail!" I shouted. There was not a moment to be lost.

"Go below, I entreat you," I said, leading Sophie to the companion-hatch.

"Oh, what is going to happen?" she asked, in an anxious tone.

"A hurricane is, I fear, upon us," I answered, "and you will be safer below."

She no longer hesitated, and her father, aroused by my voice, happily came to assist her down.

"Turn the hands up!" I shouted to Dick, who hurried forward to rouse up the watch below.

In less than a minute the other mates and the rest of the crew were on deck. Courses were hauled up, topgallant sheets were let fly, topsails lowered. The crew had sprung aloft. The fore-topsail was hauled, but before the men were off the yards, the hurricane was down upon us. Over the ship heeled. In an instant the topgallantsails were blown to ribbons.

"Down, for your lives, down!" I shouted. No human power could have handled the canvas now, with wild roars lashing furiously in the wind. The main and mizen-topsails were blown out of the bolt-ropes, and soon with innumerable coils encircled the yards. The ship, relieved of the pressure of the sails, righted. Happily the wind was off the land, or in a few minutes she would have been driven on shore. Still there was the danger of it shifting; I therefore put the helm up, and ran off before the wind. Every instant the sea rose, and as she got farther and farther from the land, she began to pitch and tumble wildly about. Dick and several hands, going aloft with axes, at length cleared the topgallant yards, and we got them down on deck, and struck the gallant masts. Getting the main-topsail set, a lull occurring, I was able to heave her to.

Not till then could I venture to leave the deck. On entering the cabin, I found my passengers clinging to the sofas. By the light which swung to and fro in the centre, I saw that they all looked pale and alarmed, expecting again to have to encounter the fearful dangers from which they had lately escaped. I did my best to reassure them, by expressing my hopes that the hurricane would soon cease, and that, God protecting us, we might be able to enter port.

"Oh, then I have no fear," exclaimed Sophie; and raising her head, she did her best to impart the same confidence she felt to her companions.

Not knowing, however, what might occur, I was compelled again to return quickly to the deck. The gale howled and whistled through the rigging, the waves roared, and the sea, as it rose in wild billows around, every now and then broke on board, threatening to sweep our decks clear of all upon them. The lightning, darting from the clouds in vivid flashes, played around our masts. At any instant the electric fluid might, I knew full well, come hissing down on deck, and set the ship on fire. Should also the wind shift, we should lose more of our sails, and might be driven before daylight helplessly on shore.

It was a very anxious time; for I felt that I had not only the ship to look after, but her whom I loved more than my life, and those dear to her, under my charge.

Still the confidence in God's protecting care which has cheered me through life supported me on that trying occasion. I knew too that it was enjoyed by my friends; for, from the conversations I had had with them, I had discovered that they possessed the same faith as I did, and though, from living among those who differed from them, they did not speak in public on religious subjects, they made the precepts of the Bible the rule of their lives.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

A HAPPY DISCOVERY.

Morning broke at length. How different was the appearance of the ocean to that it had presented the previous day! The dark-green foam-topped waves danced up wildly, the sky was of a murky hue, the wind roared and whistled as loudly as before, and the ship, instead of gliding on with calm dignity, tumbled and tossed as if she was a mere cock-boat.

Sophie begged to come on deck. I assisted her up. Scarcely had she appeared, when there came a break in the clouds to the eastward, and the sun shone forth. "A good omen!" she exclaimed.

"We may take it as such," I answered; "and I trust that before long the hurricane will cease, and He who holds the waters in His hands will save us from further danger."

The wind ceased almost as suddenly as it had arisen, the sea went down, and in a few hours we were able to clear the yards and bend fresh sails. Once more the ship was standing for the land.

My first mate had frequently been at Saint Lucia, and he acting as pilot, soon after daylight the next morning we entered the harbour.

The ship of necessity must I found be detained some days, as the main-topmast was badly sprung, while she had received other damages in the gale. As these could be repaired under the superintendence of my first mate, I escorted my passengers on shore.

Monsieur de Villereine had begged me to come to his house, which was situated about a mile from the town, but I felt compelled to accept Henri's invitation to accompany him and his sister to his father's house, a short distance farther off on the side of the mountain; and more so, as from his weak state, he required my assistance in getting in and out of the carriage. Poor fellow! my heart grieved for him, as it seemed to me, though he had no apprehension of danger, that he was only returning home to die.

I had asked Sophie whether she had mentioned our engagement to her father and mother.

"I will do so immediately we get home," she answered; "it would be better than saying anything at present."

Monsieur de Villereine's house stood on elevated ground, with extensive sugar plantations below it. It was of a considerable size, surrounded by a broad verandah. The handsome appearance of the interior, and the numerous domestic slaves, gave me an idea of the wealth of the owners. I could not help asking myself, "Will Sophie be content to exchange all this luxury for the limited income and small house which I should alone have the power of offering her?" I had but one moment to speak to her alone. She seemed to divine my thoughts.

"I do not value all these things," she said, pressing my hand; "and I trust that my brothers will live to occupy this house."

She had already told me of her two brothers, who were away on the other side of the island.

After resting some time, we continued our journey to the house of Henri's father and mother. A messenger had been sent on to warn them of our coming.

I was much pleased with the elder Monsieur de Villereine and his wife. They received me in the most kind and cordial way, but I saw how deeply they were grieved at the altered appearance of poor Henri, and that they were evidently far more alarmed than Emilie had been, who had constantly watched him. Their house was even handsomer than that of Sophie's father, though built in the same style. It commanded a beautiful view of the town and harbour and the blue sea beyond it, while on every side below stretched out the numerous sugar plantations; while here and there were seen the whitewashed houses of the inhabitants, with their gaily-painted verandahs and window blinds.

Though her manner was gentle and kind in the extreme, Madame de Villereine's countenance wore an expression of sadness which seemed habitual to it. I concluded, however, that this arose very much from her anxiety about the health of her only son. Emilie tried to cheer up her parents by assuring them that Henri was better than he had been, and she hoped that before long they should be able to carry out their project of visiting England.

"Though not our native air, it is yours, you know, mamma, and I am sure it will effectually restore his health."

Madame de Villereine shook her head.

"I had thought so," she observed; "but I see a great change in him for the worse, and I fear he is sinking under the same complaint which carried off my dear sister."

In the course of conversation she happened to mention that the sister of whom she spoke was a Mrs Raglan. I was struck by the name, and inquired who she had married.

"An officer in the navy," she answered; "but he was ordered to the East Indies, and soon afterwards she died, leaving a little girl. We received notice of her death, but the island being at the time in the possession of France, and war raging, we were never able to ascertain what became of the child."

Emilie I saw seemed anxious when her mother began to speak on this subject, and endeavoured, without appearing to do so, to change the conversation. Soon afterwards her mother seemed much affected, and left the room.

"I must ask you," said Emilie, "not again to allude to the subject, as it recalls many painful associations."

"I will do as you wish," I answered, "but I feel sure that I am well acquainted with the niece she spoke of;" and I then told her all I knew of Kitty Raglan, my meeting with her father, and her marriage with my old friend Captain Falconer.

She expressed her pleasure at what I had told her, adding, "It will, I am sure, give great joy to mother, for she has always grieved at having lost all traces of my cousin, though she has still greater grief of her own."

Just then Madame de Villereine returned, and Emilie cautiously prepared her for the interesting information I had to give.

"This is indeed joyful news," she exclaimed, when I had told her of her niece's happy marriage with Captain Falconer; when suddenly she stopped and sighed, and the sad expression which her countenance usually wore stole over it.

"Monsieur de Villereine will to-day drive you over to see his brother and his wife and daughter, and you must give them the account you have given me. They will be greatly interested; and oh, how I wish we could persuade Captain Falconer to come over and pay us a visit!"

A carriage shortly afterwards came to the door, and I accompanied my new friend—Emilie wishing to remain with Henri. Monsieur de Villereine, who had observed our approach, received as at the door. He welcomed me with marked politeness, but it struck me that his manner was much more stiff and formal than it had before been. He conducted us to the drawing-room, where I hoped to see Sophie, but her mother alone was there. I was struck also by the change of manner of the old lady, though she was as studiously polite and courteous as her husband. Having begged me to be seated, and made various common-place inquiries, he led his brother out of the room, while the old lady continued the conversation in the same formal strain. When I inquired for Sophie, expressing my hope that she had recovered from the fatigues of the voyage, she answered that her daughter was in her room, and that she did not think she would be able to leave it that morning.

After some time, when it seemed to me that we had exhausted all subjects of conversation, and my tongue had begun in a most uncomfortable way to cling to my mouth, for I somehow or other had forgotten all about Mrs Falconer, and that I had undertaken to narrate her history to her uncle and aunt, I was in truth thinking only of Sophie and myself, the two brothers returned and the old lady retired. They then sat down opposite to me, and I could not help feeling, by the expression of their countenances and their manner, that something not over agreeable was coming. Monsieur de Villereine looked at his brother and then at me, and hummed and hawed several times, as if he did not like to begin what he had to say. At last he mustered courage.

"My dear Captain Laurel," he began, "I am sure that as a sailor you like open and frank dealing. Now, I need not tell you how much we esteem you, and how grateful we are for the inestimable service you have rendered us, and for your kindness and attention while we were on board your ship; but you must acknowledge that I ought not as a father to allow these considerations to bias me when my daughter's future prospects are concerned. Now you will understand, my brother and I had agreed that she should marry her cousin Henri, although she herself is not aware of this arrangement. My astonishment was nevertheless very great when she told me that you had offered her your hand, and that she, young and inexperienced as she is, had, without consulting me, ventured to accept you. Such a thing, my dear sir, is against all precedent. The whole of society would be subverted, and all parental authority destroyed, were I as a father to allow what you do me the honour of proposing to take place. I am, I repeat, deeply grateful to you for the inestimable service you have rendered me, but I must ask you to be generous, and not insist on my giving you the reward you demand."

"My dear sir," I exclaimed, "I do not ask for your daughter's hand as a reward for anything I have done, though I esteem it the highest prize I could win. The service you are pleased to say I have rendered you, I should equally have given to any fellow-creature, and I therefore ask your daughter's hand as a free gift. I love her devotedly, and she has consented, with your permission, to be mine."

"My permission I cannot give, Captain Laurel," exclaimed the old gentleman, growing more and more agitated. "I desire to reward you to the utmost of my power, and you have my sincere and hearty gratitude; but more I cannot and will not offer. I regret deeply to say this, and I am grieved—greatly grieved. My brother knows my determination, and I am sure that you will agree that it is better I should express it at once."

In vain I attempted to plead my cause. I entreated to see Sophie, but her father replied that that would only be painful and useless; and at length the elder Monsieur de Villereine observing that his carriage was ready, I took the hint, and, feeling as if I was walking in a dream, I got into it. I felt dreadfully cast down. It seemed to me that Sophie was lost to me for ever, and I might not again have an opportunity of seeing her.

"I have some few commissions to perform in the town," said my friend, "and we will drive there. But notwithstanding what has occurred, I must insist on your coming back with me to see Henri: he and his sister will afford you all the consolation they can. But my brother is very determined, and I know him so well that I cannot tell you to keep up your hopes. It would be wiser for you to abandon them altogether."

We reached the town, and when we got there I was much inclined to go on board the ship and remain: but Monsieur de Villereine pressed me so earnestly to return, that, for the sake of Henri, I agreed to do so. As, however, I wished to go on board for a short time, he undertook to wait for me. Taking a boat from the shore, I pulled out to the Ellen. I had not been long on board before Dick asked me to step into the cabin, as he had something of interest to communicate to me.

"Well, Captain Laurel," he said, as soon as we were seated, "I went on shore yesterday evening and walked up the town, and I am as sure as I am alive that this is the very place where you came from. As I walked up the street, I came to the very spot where the black woman handed you to me when you were a little chap scarcely higher than my knee—I could swear to it in any court of justice, if it were necessary—and, as I think I have told you, I have always carried about me the very coral you had on at the time; and now I would advise you to lose no time in making inquiries about the matter among your friends."

So wretched did I feel, that I was very little disposed to do this, and had I not promised to rejoin Monsieur de Villereine, I think that I should have remained on board, to get ready for sailing as fast as possible. I however told Dick that I would do as he recommended.

I found Monsieur de Villereine waiting on the quay for me. As soon as we had got clear of the town, I began to speak to him on the subject. As I went on, I was surprised at the extraordinary agitation he exhibited.

"Do I understand from you, my dear sir, that you yourself were carried away from this island when about four years of age?" he asked, pulling up his horse, as if he felt unable to guide the animal, and gazing at me earnestly.

"One of my mates, who has acted the part of a father to me, has assured me so," I answered, "though I myself have a very indistinct recollection even of events which occurred much after that."

"The ways of heaven are indeed mysterious," exclaimed Monsieur de Villereine. "At the time you mention, my second son, two years younger than Henri, while in charge of a black nurse, was lost to us. The poor woman was wounded by a chance shot during an attack from an English squadron, and she died shortly afterwards without being able to give any account of what had become of the child, though we had hopes that he had been carried on board one of the men-of-war. As, however, two of them were afterwards lost, we abandoned all expectation of ever again seeing our son. I must not raise your hopes too high, nor my own, and yet when I look at your features, and think of what my son might have been, I cannot but believe that you are indeed my lost boy. His name, too, was Charles, which may be a remarkable coincidence. You tell me that that name was given you on board the ship."

As may be supposed, my heart beat violently as Monsieur de Villereine said this; yet I could not help trusting that he was indeed my father.

That he might himself make inquiries of Dick, I offered to send on board at once for my mate. We accordingly drove back into the town. Dick soon arrived at the hotel, where we remained for him. Monsieur de Villereine cross-questioned him narrowly, and on his producing the coral I spoke of, any doubts he might have entertained vanished.

"My dear boy," he exclaimed, embracing me, "you are indeed my long-lost son. Your recovery will, I trust, be the means of preserving your poor mother's life, for she has, I fear, a great grief in store for her; for, although she hoped for the best, I cannot but see that your poor brother Henri's days are numbered."

I need not repeat what more my father said. Taking Dick in the carriage, we drove rapidly home. My father hurried in first to prepare my mother, and in a few minutes I had the happiness of being clasped in her arms, and receiving the affectionate kisses of my sister Emilie and the warm congratulations of poor Henri.

"I always loved you as a brother," he exclaimed; "and now I am indeed delighted to find that you are so in reality."

I was scarcely aware how quickly the time had gone by, when carriage wheels were heard approaching the house.

"I sent off a note to your uncle and aunt," said Emilie to me, "as I was sure they would be glad to hear the news, and here they are."

They entered the room directly afterwards, followed by Sophie. The formal manner my uncle had assumed had vanished. After he and my aunt had cordially welcomed me, the whole party disappeared from the room with the exception of Sophie.

"Papa has withdrawn his objection," she whispered; "and I told him I would never marry any one but you."

I must bring my yarn to a conclusion.

My first mate was so trustworthy a man, that I felt justified in sending the Ellen back to Barbadoes under his charge to receive her cargo.

Poor Henri entreated that I would not delay my marriage, and Sophie having no objections, in the course of a few weeks we were united. My brother's death, which all expected, took place, to our great grief, a short time afterwards.

I was thankful to find that the consignees of the Ellen consented to allow my mate to take her home. On her next voyage my parents and sister, as well as my uncle and aunt, agreed to accompany me to England, leaving my brothers-in-law in charge of their two estates.

We had a prosperous passage, and having been invited by Mr and Mrs Dear to pay them a visit, we on our arrival repaired to their house, where Captain and Mrs Falconer had come to receive us; and I had the happiness of introducing my old friend, and now my cousin Kitty, to her aunt and to the rest of her relations.

THE END.