Happiness comes unexpectedly in the days of mourning. The wild recruit had returned, after many days, to cheer an aged parent and a forlorn sister, who needed the hand of some one to help them in their troubles. The old man's heart revived again; and it was a pleasure to witness the joys of the few days which then visited the Catchpoles, and the congratulations which they received from the old clerk and his wife upon the bright prospects of a hopeful son. Reports spread like wildfire that Charles Catchpole had come home, and that he had returned from India as rich as a Nabob. Reports are generally exaggerated, and they were not a little so in the present case; for although Charles might be comparatively rich, his fortune, as the world terms it, was anything but made. He had a few guineas to spare; but he had to return to India, and to pursue a very hazardous course of life, before he could even hope to gain that independence which had been promised to him. A few guineas, however, made a great show in a cottage. He paid his father's debts; made a present to the old clerk's wife; bought his sister a new gown; his younger brother, Edward, a new suit of clothes; paid one year's rent in advance for the cottage; left a present with the sexton to keep his mother's grave ever green; and announced his departure to his family after staying one short week after five years' absence. "I shall see you no more, Charles!" exclaimed Margaret, at parting. "I fear that I shall see you no more! You are going through a dangerous country, and the perils you have already escaped you must not always expect to avoid." "Fear not, Peggy, fear not. God sent me in a proper season to comfort you, and if you trust in Him, He will send you some other friend in need, if it be not such a one as myself." "Oh, let me go with you, dear brother! I should like to accompany you," said Edward, his brother. "That cannot be, Edward. You must remain at home to help your father and sister; you are not able to undertake a march of many thousand miles, under a sun burning your face, and a sand scorching your feet. I have a good friend, however, in Lord Cornwallis, and I have no doubt that some time hence I shall be enabled to do you some service. I do not recommend you to be a soldier; but if you wish it, when I see his lordship I will ask him to help you. You shall hear from me in the course of a year or so; in the meantime make all the progress you can in reading and writing with the old clerk, and be industrious. I must be in London to-morrow, and shall soon sail for India. I shall never forget any of you." "God bless you all!--good-bye," were the parting words of Charles Catchpole. There is in that short sentence, "Good-bye," a melancholy sense of departure which the full heart cannot express. "Good-bye!--good-bye!" and Margaret gave vent to her grief in tears, whilst the old man clasped his hands in silent prayer.