Their task was finished just as the clear, red winter’s sun sank to a level with the horizon, lighting up all the bay like a sea of fire. The boy and girl started for home with their baskets well laden with maninosies, and were gayly laughing around the fire, when Miss Joe held up her hand, exclaiming: “Hush, I thought I heard a man’s step.” “A man’s step!” echoed Hugh, with a look of surprise. “A man’s step!” re-echoed Nettie, her eyes wide open with astonishment. “Yes! A man’s heavy step crunching through the snow. There, listen! there it is again. It seems to be coming up the hill toward the house—listen!” They all listened. Crunch, crunch, crunch came the heavy, regular, monotonous tramp. And it is impossible to convey the effect of that regular, heavy sound breaking upon the profound stillness and solitude of night on that sea-girt isle. “In the name of Heaven, who can it be?” exclaimed Miss Joe, as nearly frightened as ever she was in her life. Crunch, crunch, crunch came the step, nearing the door. “I am going to see,” exclaimed Hugh, seizing up a pine knot, lighting it at the fire, and making for the door. Miss Joe could scarcely repress a scream. Nettie stood like a young panther at bay; clinging to Miss Joe in terror, yet looking toward the door with her eyes ablaze with defiance. Just as a loud rap started them afresh Hugh swung the door open, and a tall, majestic-looking man, wrapped in a large cloak, strode into the room. CHAPTER XXX. THE NIGHT VISIT. And scenes long past of joy and pain, Come weldering through her childish brain. _—Scott._ “That’s godfather! As sure as a gun that’s godfather!” exclaimed Nettie; making one bound from the place where she stood to a chair, and springing thence to the bosom of the newcomer, where she clung desperately, pressing her arms around his neck; holding his head between her hands, while she kissed his eyes and cheeks and lips; then rubbing and rooting her head into his bosom, and screaming with delight. “And is it possible you recollect me, little Nettie?” asked General Garnet (for it was he), in a tone of voice almost sad. “Recollect you, godfather; sure I do! Though you have been away so long; I haven’t seen you since I was a wood-sprite, and that was a long time ago, and now I am a water-nymph,” exclaimed Nettie, rubbing her head into him, and clinging around him, laughing with joy. “Wild as ever, Nettie?” “Wild, yes! You know when I was a wood-sprite I could climb trees like a squirrel; well, now, I am a sea-nymph—I can swim like a duck and dive like a fish—ask granny if I can’t! cried Nettie, reiterating all her exclamations of affection and delight, and repeating all her impetuous caresses. “It seems to me that you love me a little, Nettie?” said he, in the same sad tone.