Nodding to Dick, he stepped into the passage and closed the door gently. Then he went quietly to the room where his mother had laid tea. There was nothing of value in the house, for the family had been particularly unfortunate during the last few years. In spite of many obstacles Mr. Hartland had worked his way up to the position of mate, but on his first voyage as an officer had met with an accident which kept him in hospital for months. Then he found it hard to secure another berth, and during the time of his enforced idleness the best of his furniture had been parted with to buy food. Few people knew this, however, as the Hartlands, who were very proud, kept their troubles to themselves. Mrs. Hartland was a notable housewife, and had a certain amount of taste, which enabled her to make the house look nice. The room which Jim entered was quite attractive. A few nicely-framed black-and-white pictures hung on the walls; long curtains draped the window tastefully; the grate shone by reason of many applications of elbow-polish; everything was beautifully clean. A cloth of snowy whiteness covered the table, and the various articles set out for use showed evidence of capable cleaning. "Make haste, my boy!" exclaimed his mother cheerfully; "your tea is poured out. Dick and you have had a long gossip." "Jim’s tired, and I don’t wonder at it," remarked Susie. The boy sat down in his usual place and forced himself to eat and drink. His mother, who was proud of the praise he had won, talked about the match. "There was only one thing wanted to make the day a complete success," said she. "When you were on the platform with all those gentlemen I could not help wishing that your father had been looking on." Jim put down his cup, so that she should not see how his hand trembled, and bit his lip to keep from crying out. The paper seemed to rustle in his pocket, and he made up his mind to tell her the truth at once. But how? He could not say, "Father will never know anything about it, because he is lying at the bottom of the sea!" Yet it must be done. His mother must not be left to hear the terrible news from a stranger. While he still hesitated, Susie, who had sharp ears, exclaimed, "Listen, there’s the paper-boy. I can hear him shouting, ’Latest Special!’" "Run, Jim, quick!" cried his mother, taking a half-penny from her pocket. She was as excited as Susie at the thought of seeing her boy’s name in print. Jim tried to stand, but his limbs tottered, and he sat down again. In an instant his mother, forgetful of the paper, was by his side. "You have overdone yourself, my boy," she said. "All that running about has been too much for you." "No," said the boy, and he spoke with difficulty; "I am all right, mother!" and then, with a wild cry, "O mother, mother, how can I tell you? It’s about the _Morning Star_, and—and father!"