"No, father, if you go I will go; and go I hope you will," said Norah. "Would that you had ten times as much fortune to fit out as many vessels to search round the shores of the whole Atlantic. And, father, you'll take me with you? I must go; I should die with anxiety were I to remain behind. In the voyage I took with you I learnt all about a sea life. I know the various dangers I may have to go through, but I don't fear them; I am ready to endure whatever perils you may be exposed to, and I'll not flinch from them." Thus Norah argued with her father. "But Mrs Massey--what will she do without you?" he asked. "She would not detain me. Am not I going to assist in the search for her son, as well as in that for Gerald?" answered Norah. "Were I Owen Massey's younger brother, she would not hesitate to send me; she will not do so now. She has too long lived a life of solitude to object to being left for a few short months, especially when she can hope that Owen may be found." Norah had gained her point. The old captain was really thankful to have her society, and so often had he braved the dangers of the sea that he no longer feared them for his daughter. Firm as the captain was in his opinion, few others agreed with him; and when it was known that he was looking out for a ship, most of his acquaintance pitied him, and whispered that the loss of his son had turned his head. Still, nothing any one could say changed his resolution; indeed, there was something grand in his very obstinacy, and worthy of admiration. The only person who stuck to him was Captain O'Brien. "If I were a younger man, faith, I'd be after going out as mate," exclaimed the brave old captain. "Whether the lads are alive or dead, the point will be settled, and I am fain to believe that they are still alive. If I can't go myself, I'll prove my faith in the undertaking by subscribing five hundred pounds towards it. The sooner you get the ship fitted out and put to sea, the better it will be for my friend Norah--of that I'm very sure."