he could give us. So, until we reached
Cherbourg, if we ever did reach it, we should
dissemble. This was the only thing to be done;
though Fanny was for no such temporising.

"I cannot look or speak to the wretch. To
think that we are shut up here with a —"

She covered her face.

I went to him. "What do you think now?"
I said, forcing myself to speak calmly.

"Another hour," he said, "if we pull through
that, there might be a change. That poor wretch,"
he went on, "what a judgment! I knew I
might leave my case to the Lord. Yet poor Dan,
my heart bleeds for him, and I do repent —"
He stopped. "We should leave our case in the
hands of Him who rules the storm. There! I
declare, there is a break yonder!"

That long and dreadful night at last came to
an end. Morning broke at last. But though
the storm broke at last, the wind had not gone
down; through the whole day we had to go
before it, and were blown on steadily. Clarke
was, it must be said, admirable in regulating
our vessel. Indeed, we owed our safety to his
skill. But Fanny, in the daylight, now kept
below. She could not bear to look upon him.
It made her shudder to speak of him. We
beat about the whole day, and towards evening
the wind began to fall, though the waves
remained very high; and then we saw land, and
a little port with arms stretching out, as if made
of basket-work. Clarke came to me.

"Dieppe, sir," he said. "We shall be all safe
ashore in half an hour. And let our first thing
be to think of thanksgiving to the Almighty,
who has literally and truly plucked us this night
from the jaws of death!"

I was confounded at the ruffian's coolness.
"And poor Dan," I said, with my eye on him,
"what had he done that he should not share
in this benefit?"

"Ah, sir!" he said, "those are the unseen
mysteries. Poor Dan! though he injured me,
from my soul I forgive him. I do indeed."
And he turned up the whites of his eyes to
heaven, with a look of piety that was really
appalling.

"As for going ashore," I said, "that shall
be seen. You stay in the boat. You mustn't
stir. These are my orders, and I shall be
obeyed;" and I touched a revolver that I
had placed in my belt. "I am prepared, you
see, to enforce what I wish."

"With all my heart," he said, without the
least surprise, and walked forwards very
carelessly.

Here was the wicker-work pier at last, with the
great mariner's crucifix looking out to sea, and
some women in caps and red petticoats. With
what delight we saw land again! We got within
the wicker-work pier, came round a corner, and
saw the little town. There we dropped anchor.
As I walked up the wet and battened decks
(our poor little elegant craft was now all beaten,
bruised, maimed, and draggled), my eye fell on
a black rag lying in a pool of water. I picked
it up; it was a black silk handkerchief, now a
mere ribbon. It was torn. I put it carefully
by. Poor Dan! He had made a struggle: at
any rate, it would be some evidence.

There was a boat coming out to us with the
custom-house people aboard. So Fanny, fresh
and as brilliant as if she had not passed through
such a night, called out to me. In another
moment she gave a cry. "Look! look!" she
said. A deeper voice near said devoutly,
"God! God be praised!" I did look, and I
declare if there was not our brave fellow Dan
standing up in the boat, waving a new glazed
French hat!

He had leaped on board in a moment. "Where's
Clarke?" he cried.

I caught hold of him. "Restrain yourself,"
I said. "Justice will —"

He caught Clarke by both hands, which he
shook again and again. "You did your best for
me, indeed you did; and if that stupid handkerchief
had only held, you'd have got me aboard
again. You very nigh did it. Ah, sir! He
was nigh killed himself. And do you know,
Clarke, I was thinkin' all the time, when the
wather was pouring in gallons into my mouth,
that I had not done so well by you as to
desarve it."

We listened, wondering. He then told us
how he had struggled with the waves, and
"had the life all but bate out of him." When he
was driven up against the steamer we had near
us, he had just strength to give a cry, and
they had got him on board with infinite difficulty.

I must say Fanny and I were a little
ashamed. However, we had not committed
ourselves in any way, except so far as my
proceedings with the revolver, which must have
seemed a little curious. But we made it up
to him in many ways, and Dan made it up
to him in his own way; for he never went back
to Falmouth again, and in a very short time
Dan's residence there and its effect's were quite
forgotten, and matters came back to the old
happy footing. In short, all ended well and
happily, and for many years he and Dan sailed
with us in that well-known, tight, and excellent
sea-boat, The Lively Jenny.

Just published, In Three Volumes,
BLACK SHEEP:
A NOVEL. BY EDMUND YATES.
TINSLEY BROTHERS, 18, Catherine-street.

MR. CHARLES DICKENS'S READINGS.
Mr. CHARLES DICKENS will read at Gloucester on the
3rd of April; at Swansea on the 4th; at Cheltenham on
the 5th and 6th; and at St. James's Hall, London, on
Monday the 8th.