"Oh, poor young man, he is in a sad case enough," replied Mary Brent. "They found him floating on a kind of raft pinned together with bits of wreck, and took him off. He says the ship foundered, as nearly as he can tell, about twelve days before he was rescued, that there were two men and a young boy on the raft with him at first, but they died one after the other, till there was no one left but himself. He is a well-made but slender youth, and does not look like a regular sailor; indeed, I think he hath all the air of a gentleman born; but he is not willing to give any account of himself, and there is no use in teasing him till he gets stronger. He wanders a deal at times, but more from weakness than from fever, I think, and then his talk is always about Holford; and Davy and I thought that as you had been so long at Holford of late, you might perhaps find out something from him. He may have friends, perhaps a mother who is wearying for news of him." "I will see what I can do," said Jack. "I had almost forgot to wish you joy of Davy's return. I hear he has done very well." "Yes, indeed, Davy is second mate, which is great promotion for one so young," said Mary. "He earns good wages besides what he can make by trading on his own account, and he has brought me home a good sum of money, besides presents of foreign stuffs far too fine for me to wear, and many curious outlandish toys for the children. I know you will be glad to hear as much, for your folks have always taken his part," added Mary, wiping the glad and proud tears from her eyes; "but thank God, nobody can call my Davy a scapegrace any more." "He is a brave good lad, and I always thought so," said Jack, "and to my mind has shown himself a far better Christian by going to work to help you and the children than he would have done by becoming a monk and leaving you to shift for yourselves or live on charity. But it grows late. Shall I go up and see this stranger?" "If you will," said Mary. "He lies in my best room." The stranger was as Mary had described him, a dark slender young man, sunburnt and emaciated, yet having the air of a gentleman. He was comfortably accommodated in his hostess's best bed, and Mary had combed his dark curling locks and trimmed his beard, evidently wishing to set him off to the best advantage. The moment Jack's eyes fell upon him, he was puzzled by a resemblance to some very familiar face, but whose he could not tell. "If I have never seen you before, I have certainly seen somebody very like you," was his first thought. "See here, Master Paul," said Mary in a tone which was both affectionate and respectful. "Here is young Master Lucas come to see you." "He is very kind," said the invalid faintly smiling. "I am no great sight, I am afraid, but any friend of yours is welcome, my kind nurse."