“I couldn’t think what ’ad happened to you,” said Mrs. Banks, as she sank panting into a chair, and, unfastening her bonnet-strings, sat regarding him with her hands on her knees. “I knew he was all right,” said Mrs. Church, folding her hands and regarding him with her head on one side; “if anything happened to him I should know if he was a hundred miles away.” She sat down by Captain Barber, and laying her hand upon his, pressed it affectionately. The captain, a picture of misery, exchanged a significant glance with Nibletts, and emitted an involuntary groan. “Don’t take on so,” said Mrs. Banks, compassionately. “Do you know, I’ve got a feeling that poor Fred has been saved!” “That’s my feeling, too,” said Captain Barber, in a firm voice. “It’s very likely,” said Captain Nibletts, slowly. “What’s easier than for him to have been picked up by a passing vessel, and carried off goodness knows where?” enquired Mrs. Banks, with a glance evenly distributed between her daughter and the housekeeper. “I heard of a man once who fell overboard,” said Captain Nibletts, softly, “and he turned up safe and sound twenty years arter.” “Married man?” enquired Miss Banks, softly. “He was,” said the captain, with the doggedness of a witness under cross-examination. Mrs. Church turned her eyes upwards. “Fancy the joyful meeting of husband and wife,” she said, sentimentally. “She died just two days afore he turned up,” said Captain Nibletts, simply. There was a frigid silence during which the three ladies, sinking for a time their differences, eyed him with every sign of strong disapprobation, Mrs. Banks giving vent to a sniff which disparaged the whole race of man. “As for men who fall overboard and get picked up and turn up months afterwards,” continued the faithful Nibletts, “why, every sailorman knows scores of ’em.” “I knowed seven,” said Captain Barber, with the exactness of untruth. “They didn’t seem to think much of it, didn’t seem to think it anything unusual, I mean.” “It ain’t,” said Nibletts, stoutly. The room relapsed into silence, and Captain Nibletts, finding Mrs. Church’s gaze somewhat trying, got up to admire a beautiful oil painting on glass in a black frame which hung over the mantelpiece, and after a few encomiums on his host’s taste, bade him good-bye. “I’m coming with you,” said Barber, rising; “I’ve got some business to talk about.” “What, out again,” said Mrs. Church, tenderly, “after being on your poor feet all day?” Captain Barber murmured something inaudible in reply, and taking his hat from the sideboard went out with Nibletts. For a time they trudged along in silence until the latter, who wanted to go to his own home, ventured to ask where they were going. “All places are alike to me,” replied the old man, dismally. “I only want to get away, that’s all. She an’ Mrs. Banks are sure to have a turn and try and drag me into it.”