“What of him? What of him?” screamed Luttrell; and he seized the old man by the shoulders, and shook him violently. “He’s steerin the lugger, your honour, and all safe.” A cry, and a wild burst of laughter, broke from the overburdened heart, and Luttrell threw himself across the table and sobbed aloud. Overcome with terror at such a show of feeling in one he had deemed dead to every emotion, the old man tried to move away unseen; but just as he had closed the door behind him, Luttrell screamed out, “Come back. You saw him--you saw him yourself?” “No, Sir; but better eyes than mine did, and they could see that he had no cap on his head.” “And they were sure it was he?” “There’s no mistakin’ him among a thousand!” “If they deceived me--if this was false----” he stopped and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “There, I see her now. She’s rounding to--she’s going to anchor. I have been poorly of late, Moriarty,” said he, in a low, subdued tone; “things fret and worry me, that I’d not let annoy me if I were stronger. Men of _your_ stamp fancy there can never be much amiss with men of _mine_, because we have enough to eat and drink. What’s that noise without? Who is talking there?” The door opened suddenly, and Harry, with flushed face and wildly disordered hair, and with clothes all wet and dripping, stood before his father. He made no motion to embrace, nor even approach him, but stood within the door respectful, but not abashed, and as if waiting for leave to advance farther. Luttrell’s cheek trembled, and changed colour twice, but, subduing his emotion with a great effort, he said, in a tone of affected indifference, “You had rough weather--did you make Westport?” “No, Sir; we lost the boat.” “Lost the boat! how was that?” “She filled; at least, she took so much water that she would not answer her helm, and then she heeled over and went down.” “Down all at once?” “Yes; I had barely time to cut away our ensign from the peak. I thought I’d save the Luttrell colours, and so I did.” “Were you far from land at the time?” “About fifteen miles; as good as fifty, for the wind was strong off shore, and such a sea!” “And what did you do?” “We had plenty of spars. There were oars, and stretchers, and four large planks of the flooring, all floating about, and each of us laid hold of something.” “By my sowle you’re a brave boy!” cried the old pilot, who could restrain himself no longer. Luttrell turned a fierce look on the old man, and pointed to the door, and the poor fisherman slunk away overwhelmed with shame. “So we’ve lost our best boat, and all her tackle,” said Luttrell, moodily; “a heavy loss.” “It is!” said the boy, gravely; “but the fellows that picked us up say, that they don’t know how we held on so long with an undecked boat. They were watching us for an hour before we went over.” “Who were they?” “Westport men; they were taking that man over here you gave us the letter for--a Yankee fellow.”