Captain Rhines and the community at large inclined to the opinion of the crew. His death was universally lamented; the boys sadly missed their colored friend, and the grass grows over the well-worn path that leads to his dwelling. Captain Murch resuming the command, Aldrich went to England. Percival, the mate, becoming intemperate, was reduced to the position of lumper around the wharves in Boston. There was, however, something quite mysterious about the disappearance of Peterson: his family refused to believe he was dead, and opinions were divided. It long formed a topic of dispute and discussion at the winter firesides; some contending that a man so athletic and agile as Peterson would have caught hold of something, and never would have been drowned between the vessel and the wharf; at least, he would have made an outcry; to which it was replied, that he might have struck his head on the wharf or fender, and stunned himself. In reply to this, it was urged that a negro's head is too thick to be affected in that manner. After a while, other topics of interest came up, and the vexed subject was gradually dropped. Before the arrival of the Casco, bringing that sad news, the brigantine had sailed for Marseilles. Thus Walter and Ned went away ignorant of the whole matter. Walter and Ned had made their preparations for this voyage to Marseilles with feelings quite different from that blithesome, buoyant mood in which they weighed anchor before. The death of Uncle Isaac, as he was fondly called by the young people, had blighted anticipations of pleasure to be derived from going into the woods during the holidays; and the loss of one who united in his single person the characters of parent, counsellor, and most genial companion, weighed heavily upon their hearts. Having been called to his bedside, his last words of affectionate counsel to them were fresh in their remembrance. Ned Gates--Little Ned, as he was called at sea to distinguish him from a man by the name of Edward--had grown remarkably, in both size and strength, since his recovery from wounds received in running the broadside of an English ship on the last voyage, and no longer merited that appellation. It is customary on shipboard for the boys and ordinary seamen to furl the light sails. The royal, therefore, on board the Arthur Brown, during the last voyage, pertained to Ned; but, in a vessel that spread so much canvas as the brigantine, it was by no means a small sail. When the wind blew fresh, and especially if the canvas was wet, all the way he could manage it was to furl the yard-arms first, which, however, was not seaman-like. In very bad weather he could not furl it at all, although he sometimes exerted himself till his finger nails were torn to the quick, and the blood spun from his nostrils. It was a great mortification to him when a man was sent aloft to help him. He would look as meeching as a dog caught in the act of sheep-killing, and not get over it for a week.