But the boat had now gained the tall fabric's side; the tackles had been hooked into her, and even whilst she was soaring to the davits the great main topsail yard of the _Carthusian_ came slowly round, and the sails to the royal filled. At the same moment I was sensible of a pulsation in the deck on which we were standing; the engines had been started, and in a few beats of the heart the _Carthusian_ was on our quarter, breaking the sea under her bow as the long, slender, metal hull leaned to the weight of the high and swelling canvas. I pulled off my hat and flourished it, Grace waved her handkerchief, a hearty cheer swept down to us, not only from the passengers assembled on the poop but also from the crowds who watched us from the forecastle and from the line of the bulwark rails, and for some minutes every figure was in motion, as the people gesticulated their farewells to us. "Act the fourth!" said I, bringing my eyes to Grace's face. "One more act and then over goes the show, as the Cockneys say." "Aren't you glad to be here, Herbert?" "I could kneel, my duck. But how good those people are! How well they have behaved! Such utter strangers as we are to them! What did Mrs. Barstow give you?" She put her hand in her pocket, opened the little parcel, and produced an Indian bracelet, a wonderfully cunning piece of work in gold. "Upon my word!" cried I. "How kind of her!" exclaimed Grace, with her eyes sparkling, though I seemed to catch a faint note of tears in her voice. "I shall always remember dear Mrs. Barstow." "And what yacht is this?" said I, casting my eyes around. "A beautiful little ship indeed. How exquisitely white are these planks! What money, by George! in everything the eye rests upon!" The master, who had remained on the bridge to start the yacht, now approached. He saluted us with the respectful air of a man used to fine company, but I instantly observed, on his glancing at Grace, that his eye rested upon the wedding ring. "I presume you are the captain?" said I. "I am, sir." "Pray, what name?" "John Verrion, sir." "Well, Captain Verrion, I must first of all thank you heartily for receiving us. I had to abandon my yacht, the _Spitfire_, yesterday. We were nearly sunk by a hurricane of wind, but the men believed they could keep her afloat and carry her home. They _would_ have their way, and I heartily pray they are safe, though they cannot yet have made a port. Is the owner of this vessel aboard?" "No, sir. She belongs to the Earl of ----. His lordship's been left at Madeira. He changed his mind and stopped at Madeira--him and the countess, and a party of three that was along with them--and sent the yacht home." "Then there is nobody aboard except the crew?" "Nobody, sir."