"Yes," the venerable head was piping, "Us can come out comfortable in twenty minutes, unless the tide be setting east strong. And as for getting back, it ’ll be the same, other way round, if ye understand me." There could be no question that Simeon had come out comfortable. But he was the coxswain. The rowers seemed to be aware that the boat was vast and beamy. "Shall we row up to it?" Simeon inquired, pointing to the wreck. Then a pale face appeared above the gunwale, and an expiring, imploring voice said: "No. We ’ll go back." Whereupon the pale face vanished again. Denry had never before been outside the bay. In the navigation of pantechnicons on the squall-swept basins of canals he might have been a great master, but he was unfitted for the open sea. At that moment he would have been almost ready to give the lifeboat and all that he owned for the privilege of returning to land by train. The inward journey was so long that Denry lost hope of ever touching his native island again. And then there was a bump. And he disembarked, with hope burning up again cheerfully in his bosom. And it was a quarter to six. By the first post, which arrived at half-past seven, there came a brown package, "The ring!" he thought, starting horribly. But the package was a cube of three inches, and would have held a hundred rings. He undid the cover, and saw on half a sheet of note-paper the words, "Thank you so much for the lovely time you gave me. I hope you will like this. NELLIE." He was touched. If Ruth was hard, mercenary, costly, her young and ingenuous companion could at any rate be grateful and sympathetic. Yes, he was touched. He had imagined himself to be dead to all human affections, but it was not so. The package contained chocolate, and his nose at once perceived that it was chocolate impregnated with lemon—the surprising but agreeable compound accidentally invented by Nellie on the previous day at the pier buffet. The little thing must have spent a part of the previous afternoon in preparing it, and she must have put the package in the post at Crewe. Secretive and delightful little thing! After his recent experience beyond the bay he had imagined himself to be incapable of ever eating again, but it was not so. The lemon gave a peculiar astringent, appetising, _settling_ quality to the chocolate. And he ate even with gusto. The result was that, instead of waiting for the nine o’clock boarding-house breakfast, he hurried energetically into the streets and called on a jobbing printer whom he had seen on the previous evening. As Ruth had said on the night of the wreck—there is nothing like chocolate for sustaining you. III At ten o’clock two Norwegian sailors, who could only smile in answer to the questions which assailed them, were distributing the following handbill on the Parade: