So she sat a long time, weeping and praying, and calling her babe a "poor fatherless boy," when suddenly, the child smiled out of sleep and started up, calling "Papa!" Fanny sprung to her feet, almost hoping that her Brian was by her side. No, he was not there; but, oh, joy! a little way out to sea, between her and the sunset glory, came a dear familiar object--her aquatic namesake--_the boat_! Swiftly it came o'er the bright waters, joyfully dancing toward its home! Soon a beloved form was seen waving a shining sailor's hat; soon a beloved voice was heard calling her name, and soon, though it seemed an age to her, Brian O'Neill, with his oars and nets over his shoulder, as though he had only been absent for a day's fishing, sprang up the steps before the cottage and clasped his wife and child to his honest heart! Fanny laughed and wept and thanked God, the baby crowed and pulled his father's whiskers, and all were happier than I can tell. In the evening, when his parents and the neighbors were in, to rejoice over his return, Brian told the story of his adventures. When that dreadful storm came up, he would have been lost, had he not been near a large vessel which took up both him and his boat. This ship was bound to a northern Irish port, and as the storm continued, he was obliged to make the whole voyage. At B----, while he was waiting for fair weather, he looked about him a little, to see the country; and now comes the wonderful, romantic part of his story. On visiting an old and somewhat dilapidated castle, in the neighborhood of the town, he instantly recognized it as the home of his infancy; and walking straight through the park, he found the cottage of his foster-mother and the dear old woman herself--who didn't believe in him at first, because he was a great weather-beaten sailor, instead of the fair baby she had nursed. But when Brian lifted his hair and showed the scar, she was convinced and rejoiced exceedingly. Then she told him how his father, Sir Patrick O'Neill died when he was a mere baby, and left him to the guardianship of an uncle who proved to be a bad man. So when Lady O'Neill was dying, she made her nurse promise to take the child to her sister, in London, to have him brought up away from that wicked man. When the news came of the wreck of the "Erin," and the loss of all on board, this uncle went into mourning for six months--but his tenants were always in mourning, for he proved a very hard landlord. Brian laid no claim then to his title and estate, but as soon as the sea was calm, went home to ask his wife's advice, like a sensible man and a good husband. He and Fanny had often said that they did not envy the rich and great; but now, considering that the false baronet was so bad a man, and his tenantry so oppressed, they really thought it their duty to make an effort for rank and fortune.