overalls--they had been missing, and I had been obliged to go without them! he had taken Mrs Staines's large umbrella, and had waited for us, from breakfast time, round the corner, under the confident assurance that we should go to look for him. Sir, it has been his amusement to follow us about all day, gratifying his malevolent feelings with the spectacle of our exposure to the elements, our weariness, our ever-increasing anxiety! You will not wonder after this, sir--'" "There, that will do," once more exclaimed the skipper, throwing aside the letter with a chuckle of amusement. "I must say I don't wonder at the doctor's refusing to keep him any more after that! Well, his father wanted him to be a sailor, and maybe he won't make a bad one. Only we must have none of his tricks on board ship. I'll have a talk with him, when I can spare the time. That's settled. And now I can see Dr Lavie about this other lad, young Warley. Hallo there, Matthews, tell the doctor I am at liberty now." In a few minutes the person named was ushered into Captain Wilmore's presence. The new comer was a gentlemanly and well-looking young man, and bore a good character, so far as he was known, in the ship. The captain was pleased with his appearance, and felt at the moment more than usually gracious--possibly in consequence of his recent mirth over George Gilbert's exploits. He spoke with unusual kindness. "Well, doctor, what can I do for you? You have come to speak to me about young Ernest Warley, I think?" "Yes, Captain Wilmore, I want to ask your advice. His father was the best friend I ever had. He took me by the hand when I was left an orphan without a sixpence, and put me to school, and took care of me. When he was dying, he made me promise to do my best for his boy, as he had for me. But I'm afraid I can't do that, glad as I should be to do it, if I could--" "But I don't understand, doctor. Old Warley--I knew a little of him-- was a wealthy man, partner in Vanderbyl and Warley's house, one of the best in Cape Town. The lad can't want for money." "Ah, he does, though. His elder brother has all the money. He was the son of the first wife, old Vanderbyl's daughter, and all the money derived from the business went to him. The second wife's fortune was settled on Ernest; but it was lost, every farthing of it, in the failure of Steinberg's bank last year." "Won't the elder brother do anything?" "No more than very shame may oblige him to do. He hated his father's second wife, and hates her son now." "How old is the lad?" "Past nineteen; very steady and quiet, but plenty of stuff in him. He wouldn't take his brother's money, if he had the chance; says he means to work for himself. He wanted to be a parson, and would have gone this autumn to the University, but for the smash of the bank. He'll do anything now that I advise him, but I don't know what to advise."