The stranger, Lord Ormond, who was the son of Admiral Lord Fitz-Ullin, got himself presented to Mr. Montgomery; and Edmund, anxious to express his gratitude, requested his new acquaintance to tell him by what fortunate circumstance he had become his deliverer. "If any one deserves that title," answered Ormond, "it is my father. I fear I was rather negligent in not remaining to assist you; but I had been already detained much too late. In my own justification, I described the scene I had just witnessed, and the consequent interest I could not avoid taking in what was passing; when, happening to say that the other gentleman called you Montgomery, my father repeated the name, and, after considering for a moment, exclaimed, 'Why, that is the name of Lord L.'s young friend! If it be the same, he must be in the Glorious, Captain B., which came in this morning with the Cadiz fleet.' I mentioned about what age you appeared to be; upon which my father started up, saying, 'I could almost venture to affirm, that that young man has got into a serious scrape! You had better, Ormond,' he continued, 'go instantly on board the Glorious, present my compliments to Captain B., and recount all you witnessed of the business.'" Before the young men parted, Ormond gave a message, of which he was the bearer, inviting Mr. Montgomery to dine with Lord Fitz-Ullin on the following day. CHAPTER XXIII. "A vision came in on the moon-beam." Henry, left on the beach, with his chest beside him, slept heavily for some hours. When he awoke it was night. He lay on the shingles. He felt the fresh breath of the breeze, as, from time to time, it lifted the hair on his fevered temples. He heard the dash of each billow as it struck the shore, and the rattle of the loose stones, as each wave retired again, down the extended sloping bank of smooth pebbles, on which his head was pillowed. Thinking it all a dream, he remained for some moments motionless; when, becoming more clearly awake, he sat up, and passed his hand across his eyes, as it were to rectify their vision. The moon had risen over the expanse of waters before him. He gazed on the sparkling of her myriad beams, mingling in fairy dance o'er all the solitary waste, for not a sail or mast appeared. He looked on his right hand, and on his left; here too all was loneliness! His ideas still bewildered, he rested his eyes on the pillar of light, which the bright orb exactly opposite to him, and still near the horizon, had flung across the whole ocean, planting its base at his very feet. On a sudden this dazzling object became obscured, and he beheld, standing over him, and intercepting its refulgence, the same remarkable figure which, it may be remembered, Mr. Jackson had seen walking with him, about eight years since, in the shrubbery at Lodore House. CHAPTER XXIV. "The darts of death, Are but hail to me, so oft they've bounded From my shield!"