Here Peter O'Neill came and said that the weather was looking better, and the boat was ready, and if the little lady and gentleman would come, he would take them across that bit of sea home to their Granny. The children felt it hard to leave the island and their new friends without having seen more of them, but the thought of Gran'ma's pain of mind and Nurse Nancy's misery hurried them off, and they were soon in the boat. This was a very different crossing from the last, seeing that they were cared for by two stout fishermen, and pulled along by four strong oars. "But, after all, God did very well for us, now didn't He, Mr. O'Neill?" said Terry. "He did the next thing to a miracle," said O'Neill; "but you'd better not be doin' any more thricks behind your Gran'ma's back, or maybe God would turn round and punish ye." "I won't; indeed, indeed, I never will," said Terry. Meanwhile poor Nurse Nancy had spent a dreadful day and night since Bridget had rushed home to her with the news that the children had disappeared and were not to be found. All the evening and through the night men were out searching for them in every direction. No one noticed the disappearance of the boat till next morning, and it was feared that the children had fallen down some steep rocks, and had either been killed by the fall or drowned. Bridget was nearly out of her senses, knowing that she had neglected the children; and poor old Nancy was so ill from the shock and fear that she would perhaps have died, only that she had Madam to think of. When Granny's tea-time came and the children did not appear, Madam naturally asked what was delaying them. "Oh, then, indeed, madam, you mustn't expect to see them to-night! They've been gettin' into mischief, and I can't bring them here to you." Gran'ma was shocked. "Now, Nancy," she said, "are you not too severe upon them, and for the first fault? They have been doing so beautifully." "Well, madam, I beg you'll leave them to me," said Nancy, making a great struggle to speak as if nothing had happened worse than seemed from her words. "I hope it will be all right with them to-morrow, and then they can come in and ask your pardon." "What did they do, Nancy?" asked Madam. "Oh, they'll tell you themselves, I hope," said poor Nancy, striving to satisfy her mistress without telling a positive untruth. So the dear old lady went to sleep that night without having suffered anything worse on the children's account than a little regret that they had been punished by having their tea in the nursery, and being sent to bed early. Nancy could not rest, but spent the night wandering up and down the avenue and on the road, watching for the return of messengers, who were continuing the search about the rocks and all over the country, with the help of lanterns. But day broke without bringing any sign of the children.