Prythee, say on; The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter of moment. I go, I go; look how I go; Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow. SHAKESPEARE. While the happy reunited pair spoke of future hopes and plans, Commodore Bruce passed off to the long drawing-room, rang for his servant and sent the man first, to go in turn to every member of the family and request each one to come thither, and then to call every domestic in the house to the presence of the master. While waiting for his orders to be obeyed the old commodore walked slowly up and down the floor, muttering to himself: “I dare say one-half of them already know the whole truth, and the other half shrewdly suspect it! However, I must make the announcement all the same, I suppose.” In a few moments the ladies of the family began to drop in. First came Mrs. Catherine Bruce and Hermia; next Mrs. Warde and Belinda. The commodore requested them to sit down and wait for a few minutes longer. At length the household servants came, with faces full of interest and curiosity. The old gentleman’s conjecture as to their knowledge and their suspicions was about half right. The crowd before him knew that something extraordinary, connected with a tramp, had occurred; but they were far from knowing what it really was. They stood now, eagerly waiting for the master of the house to enlighten them. Commodore Bruce did this in a very few words: “I have to announce to you joyful intelligence. My son, Mr. Leonidas Bruce, long supposed to have been lost in the wreck of the United States ship _Eagle_, has returned unexpectedly to-day. He is now in this house, as is also his wife, Emolyn, whom you have all heard of as the Lady of Edengarden. They are to remain here, I hope. Those among you who remember Mr. Bruce in his boyhood shall have an opportunity of shaking hands with him after dinner. Later you shall hear more. This is all I have to tell you. No! no demonstrations—not even congratulations yet! I will have none—I——” But before the commodore could utter another word every arm went waving aloft over every head, and a unanimous— “Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” burst from the crowd of servants. “As if it were reasonable, or even possible, to prevent that!” whispered his sister Margaret, laying her hand soothingly on the arm of the exasperated commodore. The old man swallowed his rising wrath and merely said to the offenders: “Now, every man among you go quietly away to your duties! Next Thursday—a week from to-day—being Hallow Eve, you shall all have a thundering blow-out in honor of this joyful occasion! No! No more hurrahing, you villains! If there should be——” “Hurrah! Hurrah!! Hurrah!!!” “Begone!” said the commodore with a stamp. And they hurried away, making the welkin ring as they went with: “Hurrah! Hurrah!! Hurrah!!!”