Long before the rescuers and the rescued reached the shore with their leaky boat in tow, the excitement among Mrs. Murcher's boarders in regard to the yacht had been allayed by a telegram. The adverse wind of the evening before had caused the Susette to put into Portland; whence some of the party were to return by rail that morning. [Illustration: "THE CASTAWAY RETURNED THE HAIL, AS THE BOAT CAME NEARER."] So said the message; in consequence of which, interest in the unknown individual on the back of the "Old Cow" languished somewhat, until the arrival of the little party on the beach. Then it went up to the bubbling point again; and there was the liveliest effervescence of curiosity to know how Olly Burdeen, the faithful, unromantic chore and errand boy, had met with so wonderful an adventure. Accompanied, or preceded, by those who had gone down to see him disembark, he mounted with slow, miserable, anxious feet the piazza steps. There all the other ladies came out eagerly to meet him, and pressed around, marveling and questioning; and Mrs. Murcher, flushed from her molding-board, held up both her doughy hands. "Why, Olly! where _have_ you been?" said one. "In his new suit of clothes!" said another. "The first time he ever wore them!" exclaimed a third. And one laughed; the one of all whom Olly most dreaded to have see him in that plight. It was not an ill-natured laugh by any means; and she would have helped it if she could. But Amy Canfield had a merry disposition. And Olly after his night of terror and fatigue, still oppressed with a horrible anxiety, humbled, drooping, rolling his distressed eyes in fear of encountering Mr. Hatville's, with the handkerchief still on his head and his new clothes torn at the knees,--it must be owned that Olly did look ridiculous. "Why, Amy!" said Mrs. Merriman, "how _can_ you laugh?" "It's so funny!" replied the tall brunette; "and I'm so glad he is rescued," she added, discreetly. "We all were so anxious, thinking the Susette had gone on the rocks; and it was only our Olly after all." "What _has_ happened to you, Olly?" cried Mrs. Murcher, amazed to the end of her doughy fingers. "I just went out to take a little row, last evening," murmured the forlorn Olly. "I lost one oar; it got tangled in the kelp, and a wave wrenched it out of my hand. Then I broke another, and the wind blew me off shore." "And you've been all night on the 'Old Cow'?" said the good landlady. "Worse than that," said Olly. "I was on the 'Calf.' And a part of the time in the water. I guess if anybody had been there on the 'Calf's' back in my place--alone--such a night!--waiting for the tide to rise and cover 'em--I guess they wouldn't have thought it much of a joke!" And Olly's voice broke. "It must have been terrible, Olly! Do forgive my laughing!" said Amy, relenting. "How did you get to the 'Old Cow'?"