"I've seen plenty of sea-fogs in my time, my little son," answered Nat, as he brought in the boat, and moored it safely in its niche; "and I am always glad to see them go, for they do more ill to ships, I take it, than storms and tempests. I'm glad to find myself here; for it's ill being at sea in such thickness as this. However, I think it will lighten a bit soon. The bank isn't a deep one, so far as I can see, and it must have pretty nigh drifted over us by now--not but what it may come back again a dozen times before the day is over. There is no telling what a fog will do. It's more capricious than a woman--eh, wifie?" Eileen smiled as she stepped ashore. Her face was rather pale. "I know more of women than of fogs, Nat. I don't know if they be much alike. Pat, darling, it's glad I am to see you safe and sound again. I'll not have to go ashore for a long while now. I've brought everything we shall want for many a month to come." Almost as she spoke the fog began to lift, and in a few moments, to the astonishment of Pat, the sun was shining again quite brightly. A breeze sprang up and drove the floating vapours away, dispersing them hither and thither, and making the waves dance and foam round the rocks. The great horn ceased to make its doleful cry, and Jim came down from above to help to unload the boat. "Have you got _my_ parcel, mother?" asked Pat, edging up to her, and speaking in a whisper, as thing after thing was brought in by the two busy men. The mother smiled and nodded, and presently she opened a big square package, and drew forth a small parcel tied up in brown paper, at sight of which Pat's face kindled all over. "Is it a nice one, mother? And did you spend my bright half-crown?" And on being satisfied upon these points, Pat vanished with his treasure into an inner room, and proceeded to untie the string and carefully open the mysterious parcel. When he had removed the two wrappings of paper, his eyes brightened and glowed with delight. He saw a beautiful book, with red-gold edges, in a soft black morocco cover, and he turned the leaves with reverent, loving fingers, and placed the book-mark in the place where he had been planning to read next to Jim--the place where the story of Jesus began that they had been talking over this very day. "It's a prettier Bible than mine," thought the child; "but mother gave me mine, so, of course, I like it best, and I shall always keep it as long as I live. But Jim will like this, I know; and he hasn't got any Bible, though he says he can read, and used to like to read once. I'm sure he'll like it. I'll go up to-night and give it him when he has his watch. He can read it up there in the tower when he's not attending to her. There's plenty of light, and in the winter he says the nights do seem long. It'll be nice for him to read about Jesus, and all the stories that are in the Bible."