James Heartsease and Harry Wall kept together, as friends should, all through the night. They felt not a particle of fear; they thought it was very grand and very awful, and spoke in calm tones of what the morrow might bring. "Don't think we shall see China, Jim," said Harry. "Perhaps not. Hope no body will be hurt," was the reply. "What a grand painting this would make!" A few minutes after Joshua had left Minnie, he came to the cuddy, where Mrs. Liddle had sought protection. "Mr. Marvel," she called to him, "have you seen my maid?" Then it came upon him that the woman to whom he had clung when the ship struck was the gypsy-maid who had kept herself so reserved, and he said, "Yes my lady; do you want her?" All the officers called the captain's wife "my lady," and she was proud of the title. "Yes," she answered; "I wish you could bring her to me, poor girl; she is friendless and unhappy, poor child!" "Has she no friends at home, my lady?" Joshua could not help asking. "None, I believe." The word "home" reached little Emma Pigeon's ears, and as she nestled in her mother's arms, the child cried, "Mother, are we going home?" "Yes, yes, my dear," sobbed Mrs. Pigeon; "try to go to sleep, there's a darling." And she rocked the child, and sang a little song about birds and angels. Joshua, steadying himself as he walked cautiously to where Minnie was standing, wondered to himself whether it was fancy that had made the gypsy-maid's voice sound so familiar to him; a sea washing over the deck, drenched him to the skin, and as he stood upright and shook the water from his clothes, the memories that were stirred within him brought to him a picture of the dear old kitchen at Stepney, with himself half-naked, barefooted, and with the water streaming from him, standing at the door. The vision may have occupied but a moment, but the picture was complete; father, mother, Ellen, Dan and the birds, the Old Sailor, all were there. But where was Minnie? Why, by his side, with short curly hair and brown gypsy-face. "Am I mad?" he exclaimed, as he dashed the waters from his eyes. But when he reached the spot where Minnie stood, and she clasped his hand and said, "Thank God, you are safe!" his amazement grew. "I cannot see your face," he whispered, with his arm round her, for the better protection of both; "but your voice is strangely familiar to me. Do I know you?" "Yes. But do not press me farther. Wait till the light comes. Shall we live till then?" "I hope so." "Will you promise me to keep near me till daylight comes? It is my dearest wish--my only one." "I promise," he said, strangely agitated, "until my duty calls me away." "And even then, you will come back when you have done your task, and stand by my side?" "I will, my poor girl. I have come now to bring you to the captain's lady." "She sent you for me?" "Yes."