Olly faltered forth more of his wretched story, which was listened to with many an expression of surprise and sympathy, for he was rather a favorite with Mrs. Murcher and her lady boarders. He had wished to go directly home to Frog-End, and had tried to induce the boys to carry him over in the ox-cart. But they were in haste to resume their work, which had been too long interrupted already; and they could not see why he should object to returning to the boarding-house. After all, he thought to himself, the dreaded inquiry regarding the watch might as well be met first as last. The kindness he met with made him feel more miserably remorseful and apprehensive than ever, for he knew that it was lavished upon him because his friends were still ignorant of what might at any minute now come to their knowledge. He was really worn out with the long, fearful strain on his mind and strength, and he was quite willing to accept Mrs. Murcher's advice that he should go at once to bed and "take something hot." The nucleus of the boarding-house was, as we have said, an old farm-house, which accounted for its not very sightly situation, there in a hollow of the hills. Besides the spacious addition, the original building remained, and at the end of the upper corridor was the old attic, with two or three steps descending to the door. Olly's room was there, and there he was soon in bed, with ample leisure to think over the terrible part of his experience which was happily past, and the part which was unhappily to come. He had not ventured to ask about the yachting party, lest something concerning the watch should come out. But he had accidentally overheard some one speak of the Susette having run into Portland. Everything else was uncertain. But, thankful for a reprieve however brief from the impending catastrophe, he ate the steaming gruel Mrs. Murcher brought him, sank into a state of stupor, and was soon rehearsing in dreams his dire adventures. He was having a distressing conversation with a dog-fish of enormous size. The monster came up out of the sea, and resting its elbow on the "Calf's" shoulder, and its face on its hand,--a face and attitude grotesquely suggestive of Mr. Hatville,--accused Olly of having one of that gentleman's eyes in his pocket, although there were two spectral eyes as big as watches in the speaker's head, at the moment. The dispute was growing frightfully loud, when Olly cut it short by kicking the dog-fish, or Mr. Hatville, or whoever it was, back into the sea, and immediately woke. CHAPTER XV. IT WAS NOT A DOG-FISH. It is generally a very good way to get out of trouble, to wake, and find it a dream. But that did not serve Olly's turn this time. The voice was still heard, louder and louder, not in the sea, as he had fancied, but behind the door which separated his garret from the corridor.