The evening wore on, and the little group were undisturbed. Judith could not repress a gentle sigh at thinking how rightly she had judged. Her father at length started up, and said, “He’d make certain whether the chap had come or not;” and accordingly put on his galoches, and was going for his cloak—(his daughter usually brought it for him, but she did not do it just then)—when footsteps were heard on the terrace. Judith disappeared from the room. There was a loud knock at the door, and Captain Stimpson went to it. On his opening it, Mrs. Stimpson heard his hearty and vociferous, “How are you, my lad?” and hastened to give her welcome with voice, hand, and tears, to the tall, stout man whom her husband ushered in. Her joyful greeting was received in silence, and with no answering marks of recognition. “This cannot be Captain Fayerweather,” she said, turning to her husband. “Captain Fayerweather? No, madam, my name is Brown,” said the stranger, gravely. He seated himself, as invited, and there was a pause which neither Captain nor Mrs. Stimpson felt able immediately to break. At length the stranger said, “I am mate of the Dolphin, Captain Richard Seaward, master; and he desired me to tell you, he would himself have brought the intelligence I am to give you, but he is sick, and was obliged to take to his bed as soon as he came ashore.” Mr. Brown stopped and cleared his voice. He resumed. “You took me for Captain Fayerweather; what I have to say is concerning him. Captain Fayerweather took passage from London in the Dolphin; and he told Captain Seaward that he had just arrived from the Cape of Good Hope, where he had found letters from home, which rendered it necessary that he should return with all possible dispatch; and that finding a vessel at the Cape ready to sail for London, he had left his own, which had a consort, to the charge of the second officer and an experienced crew, to proceed into the Pacific, and had taken passage in the one to London, hoping there to find some opportunity of going to America. We set sail from London on the third of November—” Captain Stimpson interrupted him. “On the third of November, did you say—and with Captain Fayerweather on board? That can’t be true, sir—he was here on the fifth.” The stranger answered gravely, “Sir, the business Captain Seaward sent me upon, is any thing but trifling. The Dolphin certainly sailed from London the third of November, and with Captain Fayerweather on board; all the crew will testify to this. But did I understand you rightly to say, he was here on the fifth? How—at what time? Who saw him—did you? There must have been some mistake.”