During this scene, Joshua did not know that Minnie was standing near him. Now, releasing the Lascar with warning words, he turned and saw her. She met his gaze unflinchingly, and a hot blush mantled over her neck and face. He gazed at her for so long a time, that she drooped her head before him, and stood in an attitude of pleading. But he could not doubt the evidence of his senses. Her manner, no less than her appearance, convinced him. It was Minnie, indeed, who stood before him. He covered his eyes with his hand, and staggered to the saloon. If a thousand despairing and undeserved deaths had stared him in the face, he could not have been more shocked and bewildered. He sat down and tried to think. What was the meaning of it? What did they know at home? What did they, know? What might they suspect? He saw himself and the Old Sailor together in the boat at Gravesend, and heard that faithful old friend tell him of Minnie's love for him, and what it was his duty to do. He had seen his duty clearly then: love for Ellen no less than duty--affection for his friend and brother, no less than love and duty--impelled him to the right and honorable course of making Ellen his wife. And then! Why, within three days of that consummation of his dearest hope, he and Minnie were together on board the "Merry Andrew." If they at home knew it, suspected it even, must they not believe that his whole life was a monstrous lie? that he had planned, plotted, deceived, schemed, to prove how utterly false he was to the woman who adored him, to the man who believed in him, to the kind mother and father who loved him better than Benjamin was loved? For a few moments he lost all consciousness of present peril. The ship beat amongst the rocks; the seas dashed over the deck: he heard them not, felt them not. He took from his breast Ellen's picture and the lock of hair she had given him at their parting, and kissed them again and again while his tears ran on them. Strangely enough, there came to his ears then, in the midst of his agony, his father's hearty exultant voice, saying, "This is better than being a wood-turner all one's life, isn't it, Josh?" He shivered and sobbed and cried, "O Dan, Dan, do not forsake me!" and stretched forth his hands as if his friend were near. A hand upon his shoulder aroused him, He looked up, and saw the captain's wife. She was a brave woman, and had done much during the night to sustain the courage of the others. "There is a man's work to do on deck," she said to him gravely and sweetly. "You are not growing faint-hearted?" "No, my lady," he answered, "not faint-hearted at the prospect of death; but I have received a shock worse than death." She did not stop to ask for an explanation of his meaning--time was too precious; but she took the picture of Ellen and looked at it. "My wife, my lady," he said, with a sob. A troubled expression crossed her features, and she said encouragingly,--