"And who was the lady with you--your mamma?" "Oh no; my dear mamma is dead." "Who, then?" "My governess, Miss Sampler. Do you live near this?" she asked. "I am a sailor, and live in my ship. She is now in the dockyard. And you--you must, of course, live near this?" he added, seeing that she was without a head-dress. "Yes; in the large white house that has great cannons in front of it, and where a pretty flag is always flying till sunset, when boom! goes one of the cannon, and down it comes." "It is a garrison, then?" "Oh no; it is papa's house. Oh, how papa will thank you for saving his little girl--he loves me so much!" Her voice trembled and her soft eyes filled as she said this, and added prettily, "I am the only one he has now; all my sisters are buried beside mamma." "Where?" "In England, far, far away--in Devonshire." "I know Devonshire well!" exclaimed Derval with growing interest. "Do you?" she asked, while her earnest eyes dilated. "May I ask your name?" "Clara." "A pretty name! Clara what?" "Hampton. And yours?" "Hampton too." "How very, very odd!" Derval laughed, as the little "situation" began to have "its charm," in one way, but not quite in another. In their hiding-place, the whole floor of which was now a stretch of deep and shining water, the sound of excited voices reached them, as from a distance, from time to time--the voices of those who, no doubt, were in search of the lost one, and with whom Derval could not communicate, for there--either brought in by the flood-tide from the sea, or by it out of the pool--he could see, at no great distance from the perch occupied by himself and his shrinking companion, the back or dorsal fin of a great shark above the surface of the smooth dead water, while the whole of its awful length was visible beneath it. The monster swam slowly to and fro--Derval, sailor-like, never doubting but it heard their voices, and was only waiting if opportunity served, or the water rose, to make a mouthful of each of them; but he felt safe and secure, as they were above high-water mark, as he could see by the colour of the coral walls; and when, ultimately, the tide did begin to ebb, Jack Shark passed out with it, and eventually disappeared. Before this came to pass, Derval and the rescued had conversed on many things; and he found that, young though she was, there was a sweet, womanly sympathy about her, that led him, unconsciously, to tell her much concerning himself and his affairs, and how and why he left pleasant Devonshire to become a sailor; how quickly he had risen to be third mate of a handsome ship, what a fine fellow Captain Talbot was, and so forth, and as the little lady listened to him, her soft eyes filled with interest and wonder.