little grass cottage with a lovely brown girl for a wife. The other member of our party was the mate of the ship. He had a sweet little wife back in England, so declined to marry a native women who wished him as a husband. According to a custom of this people, he was instantly put to death by her relatives, who took this method of resenting the insult to their kinswoman. If she had been a beautiful young maiden, like the doctor’s bride, it might have been different. Then I married my lovely Lokie (a rose). We had three children, this son and two daughters. I was happy and contented as years went by, but when Ahleka was twelve years old, a dreadful scourge of fever swept over the island, and my wife, one of my daughters, and the young doctor were among those who were marked by the hand of death. Then I lived on with my son and daughter. I received great consideration from the people of the island, as my son Ahleka is their head Alii or king. The line of succession descending in this island, not from father to son, but from the mother to her children, thus keeping the royal blood pure. Now, you have heard my story.” “Yes, but not your name, or that of the vessel in which you sailed,” said Captain Gray. “The ship’s name was the ‘Castle Ayreshire.’” At the mention of that name Allen Thornton made a violent start. “And I,” continued he, “was her captain—ALLEN THORNTON.” At the sound of that name a cry of astonishment burst from the lips of each of the party. Allen, throwing himself on his knees, in front of the old man, cried: “My father! My father! Have I found you at last?” The old man looked bewildered. “You are my father,” continued Allen, “did you not leave a boy, a few months old, as well as a young wife, behind you at Brighton.” “I did! I did!” sobbed the old man, “and you are he. I thank God for his goodness. To think that my other son should be sent to cheer my declining days. Surely God moves in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform. But your mother, boy, your mother. Where is she, and how? Why did you leave her?” “Father she is happy and has no need of me. She died when I was fifteen, after mourning you as dead so many years.” Captain Thornton, as we shall now call him, pressed his hands tightly over his eyes to repress his emotion, then clasped Allen to his breast. While this scene was being enacted the others had gone a little aside. “Isn’t it all strange?” whispered Mabel to Etta. “Yes, and to think of Allen and Ahleka being half brothers; did you think of that?” answered Etta. “Sure enough; I had not thought of that. I wonder if Allen has, and how he will like it when he realizes it.” Mabel spoke in a tone as if she should not care for so dark a brother herself.