The two friends were locked in each others arms. Then came a time of explanation. Dick had passed through the Rough Waters of the Lycamahonings safely. He who had breasted the breakers of the Lizard could easily take care of himself in the rapids. He was wounded, to be sure, and the struggle through the rapids had exhausted him, but he was picked up in the river and for some time was in the care of the good settlers of Kittanning; then he had returned. "You must come back with me to see my father and mother and my intended wife," said Ande. Ande insisted, and Dick yielded. They passed out through the inn and down to the Bowling Green. There were Major Trembath, Mrs. Trembath and Mistress Alice Vivian, to each of whom Dick was successively introduced. "What's wrong, Dick?" asked Ande. Dick was staring with all his eyes at the Major, and then he burst forth in answer: "Why, bless me, Ande, if the Major and old Hunter Tom are not the same, they are brothers." "The same, Dick, lad," said the Major, smilingly, and Dick again grasped his hand and shook it warmly. "I never expected to see you and Ande again, and I can't say how glad I am that things have turned out as they have," said Dick. He explained how he had returned to his people, who had long mourned him as dead, and how overjoyed they were to see him. He was now a prosperous, independent farmer of the Lizard, and was also preparing to enter the shipbuilding trade. "Thanks be," said he, in an undertone to Ande, "to the mines of Sierro Do Frio." CHAPTER XXXI ANDE'S REVENGE ----"A grudge, time out of mind begun, And mutually bequeathed from sire to son." --_Tatian_. "Lanyan forever! Lanyan forever!" "Trembath forever! Trembath forever!" The old town of Helston was a roaring, gesticulating mass, and the shouting of bellowing partisans reverberated up and down Coinage Hall Street. Crowd met crowd, waving their respective banners, opprobious names were shouted, fists flung in the air, and a special force of officers were busy from early morn quieting unruly fellows, some of them more stirred by the spirits of the Angel Inn than the spirits of politics. It was the period of the election for the Reform Parliament. Sir James Lanyan had come forth on the old party platform, and, most unexpectedly, in opposition to him, came Andrew Trembath. The latter had made himself eligible by the purchase of the Primrose Cottage, thus making himself a landholder of forty shillings annual value. Towards noon the crowds converged upon the Bowling Green, where upon a raised platform sat the Mayor, the town functionaries, the candidates, and their proposers and seconds.