"He has gone, lost in a hurricane," answered Sir Ralph, with a groan. "I do not believe it; cannot be the case; he would swim through fifty hurricanes," exclaimed the petulant old general. "The clerks here never have the rights of the story. Come back with me, we will have a look at the despatches. We manage things better at the War Office, I flatter myself." "The account was very circumstantial though," said Sir Ralph, with a sigh. "I wish I could believe there was a mistake." "Of course there is a mistake, very sure of it. Come along, and we will soon set it to rights." The general dragged Sir Ralph back into the building. The clerk looked somewhat offended at the general's address. "I understand that you have told Sir Ralph Castleton that his son is lost. You should be more exact, sir, in the information you give. Just let me see the despatch." The clerk hesitated, on which the general desired his name to be taken in to the secretary. He was admitted, and the despatch placed in his hand. His countenance fell. "Still I do not see that it is certain," he observed. "The ship was not seen to go down, and if she had, some of the people may have been saved: people often are saved from sinking ships, and there is no proof positive that she did sink. Though the _Thisbe_ may have been in danger, and I am sure if Captain Headland says she was, it must have been of no ordinary character, that is no reason that the prize might not have weathered the hurricane. He speaks of her, I see, as a recapture, and in all probability an Indiaman, and those hulking tea-chests will float when a man-of-war will go down." "I trust, general, you are right," observed the secretary: "I will not fail to inform Sir Ralph directly we receive further information." Notwithstanding all the general had said, Sir Ralph felt so greatly dispirited, that, writing to Lady Castleton, he gave her no hopes of Harry's having escaped. Unable to speak, she placed the letter in her daughter's hands. As Julia's glance fell on the name of the _Thisbe_, and the words "all the people are lost," a sickening sensation came over, and her eyes refused to convey to her mind the meaning of the letter. It was dropping from her trembling hands when, by a great effort, she recovered herself, and at length was able to decipher the writing. She read on. The _Thisbe_ and Headland were safe. Poor Harry was lost. She blamed herself for selfishly feeling that this was a relief. Then May, crushed by the agony of her grief, rose before her. "This blow, sweet creature, will break her heart," she thought. "Oh, mother, this is very very sad," she said aloud, "can it be true?" "Your father speaks as if he had no hopes; he would have expressed himself differently had he entertained any." "Mother, I must go and break this sad news to our cousins and that poor girl; it might kill her were she to hear of it suddenly."