Have you seen them? he asked, while the tears trickled down his cheeks. Yes, replied the Lieutenant. When? This morning. Walter Wallace, your grand-son, left the ship with two other sailors, and the first act that he performed after reaching the shore, was to save his grand-father’s life. It was he that rescued you from a watery grave. It was he that refused your brandy. It was the son of your long lost William. Thank heaven! the old man replied. I shall have the opportunity in part to atone for my past errors. I discarded my child then. Now I will own, cherish and protect his offspring. But you say nothing of the other child. Where is she? Where is the child of Mary Powers? My Lord, you must excuse me for not answering that question. When you see your grand-son he will inform you of all. And when will I see him? On board of the Reindeer to-night. Until that time you must excuse me. Good day. I go to see my father. Lord Wallace was alone, and for a long time communed with his own thoughts. What fools, he thought to himself, we have been. And all over a cock fight. The children exercised more judgement than their parents. They forgave each other, while the Admiral and I have kept alive the old animosity, and made ourselves miserable. But thank God sunlight begins to filter through the dark clouds that so long have separated me from my child. I will take them home to live with me, and hereafter I will have sunlight in my house and joy in my heart. CHAPTER XV. Death of Admiral Powers—Five Years in a Mad House—Appointed Lieutenant—Return to America. In one of the most elegant houses, on one of the most fashionable streets in London, sat two persons before a blazing fire. One was a young woman, dressed in the height of fashion, yet scarcely twenty years of age. Her countenance beamed with intelligence, as she closely watched the person that occupied the old arm chair in the opposite corner. It was evident from the appearance of her countenance that something was operating upon her mind of more than ordinary importance, and from which she seemed to shrink. She closely watched the features of her companion as if determined to read his thoughts. This was Miss Powers. The other was Admiral Powers, her father. He had passed his three-score-years-and-ten. He sat in his chair, with a large heavy cane in his right hand. It was hard to determine whether he was awake or asleep. His eyes opened and shut at regular intervals, and his cane kept a continual thump-thump on the floor. Occasionally he would turn his face toward his daughter, and move the muscles, as if about to address her, then suddenly relapse into his former state. If awake, it was evident that he was trying to conquer some emotion. At length he brought his cane down as if to emphasize what he was about to say. Cora! Yes, father, I am here.