"`She is very cross, grandson,' said the old man, `and I see nobody but her. It's a sad thing to be bedridden this way, and not to get out in the fresh air, and sadder still to be tended by a cross old woman, who won't talk when I want her, and won't hold her tongue when I want her. I'm glad to see you, boy. I hope you won't go away directly, as your brother Tom did. I want somebody to talk to me, sadly; and how do you like being at sea?' "`I like the shore, better, sir.' "`Ay, so all sailors say, I believe; and yet I would rather go to sea than lie here all day long. It's all owing to my being out as I used to do, night after night, watching for poachers. I had too little bed then, and now I've too much of it. But the sea must be grand. As the Bible says, "They who go upon the great waters, they see the wonders of the deep."' "I was glad to find that the old man was so perfect in all his mental faculties, and after having listened to, rather than replied to, observations about his son and my supposed brothers and sisters, by which I obtained a pretty accurate knowledge of them, I wished him good-bye, and promised to call and have a long talk in the morning. "On my return to the inn, I was able to reply to all the interrogatories which were put to me relative to my supposed relations, thanks to the garrulity of old Roberts, and put many questions relative to the family residing at the hall, which were freely answered. As the evening advanced, many people came in, and the noise and smoking were so disagreeable to me, that I asked for a bed, and retired. The next morning I repaired to old Roberts, who appeared delighted to see me. "`You are a good boy,' said he, `to come and see a poor bedridden old man, who has not a soul that comes near him perhaps in a week. And now tell me what took place during your last voyage.' "`The last vessel I was on board of,' replied I, `was a packet from Dover to Calais.' "`Well, that must be pleasant; so many passengers.' "`Yes, sir; and who do you think I saw on board of the packet the other day--somebody that you know.' "`Ay, who?' "`Why Lady R--,' replied I, `and that young gentleman who, I heard say, once lived with her as her servant.' "`Ay!' said the old man, `indeed! then she has done justice at last. I'm glad on it, Harry, glad on it, for it's a relief to my mind. I was bound to the secret, and have kept it; but when a man is on the brink of the grave, he does not like to have a secret like that upon his mind, and I've more than once talked to my daughter about--' "`What, aunt Green?' "`Yes, your aunt Green; but she would never listen to me. We both took our oath, and she said it was binding; besides, we were paid for it. Well, well, I thank God, for it's a great load off my mind.' "`Yes, sir,' replied I, `you need not keep the secret any longer now.' "`And how has he grown up?' said the old man; `is he good-looking?'