The Petrel, as usual, was in the nicest possible trim. Her snow-white sails were neatly clewed up; her clean ropes were carefully coiled away; her deck was newly scrubbed; her painted doors and ports freshly washed, and very bright; and every scrap of metal about her body shining like gold and silver. A Sabbath stillness reigned aboard. Two boys, neatly dressed in sailor’s costume, had charge of the deck. As Lord Montressor and his friend came up the starboard gangway, the elder of these boys walked forward and took off his hat. “Ah! this is my friend, Willful Brande,” said Lord Montressor, taking his hand, cordially shaking it, and then presenting him to Lord Dazzleright. “Where is your sister, my lad?” inquired Montressor. “Gone up to Manchester to see if she can make a better bargain for cotton goods with the manufacturer.” “Indeed! Why, when did she go?” “Yesterday morning.” “Really? Why, I thought that you were just in?” “No, sir; we cast anchor yesterday at sunrise. Sister left for Manchester at about eleven o’clock.” “And when do you expect her home?” “Every moment. She promised to be back to-day by the midday train, and sister never disappoints us. It is now past noon, and we may look for her every minute. There she is now! I said so!” exclaimed the boy, in sudden joy, pointing to a boat well laden, and having besides one female passenger, and which was just pushing off from the shore. They followed the direction of his finger, and recognized Barbara seated among many bales of what seemed dry goods. “Who takes care of the craft while your sister is away?” “I do—but Nep and Jack do any heavy work that is needed; and Climene, sister’s woman-servant, cooks for us. And then sister never leaves us for more than one day at a time.” Lord Montressor now went to speak to the younger lad, who was sitting under the shade of the foresail, reading. “What are you studying, my lad?” “It is,” said the boy, turning to the back of the book to give the title more accurately, “‘The Manners and Customs of Different Nations,’ a book that Mrs. Estel’s woman made me a present of.” “Mrs. Estel!” exclaimed Lord Montressor, exchanging glances with Dazzleright, who had just come up to his side. “Yes, sir, Mrs. Estel—the lady who leased the Headland from sister.” A sudden light broke on both gentlemen. “Fool that I was, not to have guessed before that the recluse lady who was Miss Brande’s tenant, could have been none other than our lost Estelle!” said Lord Montressor to himself. He took Dazzleright’s arm and walked aft. “There will now be no necessity to urge Miss Brande to a revelation that she might consider a breach of faith, and refuse to make. Providence has put us in possession of the retreat of Estelle. We will therefore make no further inquiries upon that subject; but engage passage to Baltimore more, and when we get opposite to the Headland, go on shore to seek Estelle in the old house.”