avoid casting a glance far and wide, to see if
he could descry anything of a floating mast.
Though the wind was intensely still, the sea
still rose high, and it was dangerous to
approach the cliff. The vessels around them
were busily engaged in securing a number of
articles that were floating; but George still
kept a steady look-out for the mast; and he
was now sure that he saw it at a considerable
distance. They made all sail for it; and,
sure enough, it was there. They ran their
vessel close alongside of it, and soon saw, not
only a sling rope encircling its lower end, but
a human arm clutching fast by it. Jolliffe
had the cobble soon adrift, and, with a couple
of rowers, approached the floating timber.
With much difficulty, from the uneasy state
of the sea, he managed to secure a cord round
the drowned man's wrist, and with an axe
severed the rope which tied him to the mast.
Presently they actually had the old man in
the boat, whom they last evening saw imploring
their aid from the wreck. Speedily they
had him hoisted into the yawl; and when
they got on board, and saw him lying at his
length on deck, they were astonished at his
size and the dignity of his look. He was not, as
he seemed from the altitude of the cliff, a little
man: he was upwards of six feet in height, of
a large and powerful build; and though of at
least seventy years of age, there was a nobility
of feature, and a mild intelligence of expression
in him, which greatly struck them.

"That," said George Jolliffe, "is a gentleman
every inch. There will be trouble about
him somewhere."

While saying this, he observed that he had
several jewelled rings on his fingers, which he
carefully drew off; and said to his men: "You
see how many there are;" and put them into
his waistcoat-pocket. He then observed that
he had a bag of stout leather, bound by a
strong belt to his waist. This he untied, and
found in it a large packet wrapped in oil-cloth,
and sealed up. There was also a piece of
paper closely and tightly folded together,
which being with difficulty, from its soaked
state, opened and spread out, was found to
contain the address of a great mercantile
house in Hull.

"These," said George Jolliffe, "I shall
myself deliver to the merchants."

"But we claim our shares," said the
men.

"They are neither mine nor yours," said
George; "but whatever benefit comes of
doing a right thing, you shall partake of.
Beyond that, I will defend this property with
my whole life and strength, if necessary.
And now let us see what else there is to
be got."

The men, who looked sullen and dogged at
first, on hearing this resumed their cheerfulness,
and were soon in full pursuit of other
floating articles. They lashed the mast to the
stern of their vessel, and in the course of a
few hours were in possession of considerable
booty. Jolliffe told them that, to prevent
any interference of the police or the harbourmaster
with the effects of the old gentleman,
he would be put out near Filey, and they
must steer the yawl home. He secured the
bag under his tarpaulin coat, and was soon
set ashore at a part of the bay where he could
make his way, without much observation, to
the Hull road. He met the coach most
luckily, and that night was in Hull. The
next morning he went to the counting-house
of the merchants indicated by the paper in
the drowned gentleman's bag, and informed
the principals what had happened. When he
described the person of the deceased, and
produced the bag, with the blotted and curdled
piece of paper, the partners seemed struck
with a speechless terror. One looked at the
other, and at length one said, "Gracious God!
too sure it is Mr. Anckersvœrd!"

They unfolded the packet, conferred apart
for some time with each other, and then,
coming to Mr. Jolliffe, said, "You have
behaved in a most honourable manner: we
can assure you that you will not fail of your
reward. These papers are of the utmost
importance. We tell you candidly they
involve the safety of a very large amount of
property. But this is a very sorrowful business.
One of us must accompany you, to see
respect paid to the remains of our old and
valued friend and partner. In the meantime
here are ten pounds for yourself, and the same
sum to distribute amongst your men."

George Jolliffe begged the merchants to
favour him with a written acknowledgment
of the receipt of the packet and of the rings
which he now delivered to them. This he
obtained; and we may shorten our recital by
here simply saying, that the remains of the
drowned merchant were buried, with all
respectful observance, in the old churchyard at
Scarborough; a great number of gentlemen
from Hull attending the funeral.

That winter was a peculiarly severe and
stormy one. Ere it was over, George Jolliffe
himself had been wrecked—his "Fair Susan"
was caught in a thick fog on the Filey rocks,
his brother drowned, and only himself and
another man picked up and saved. His wife,
from the shock of her nerves, had suffered a
premature confinement, and, probably owing
to the grief and anxiety attending this great
misfortune, had long failed to rally again.
George Jolliffe was now a pennylessman serving
on board another vessel, and enduring the
rigours of the weather and the sea for a mere
weekly pittance. It was in the April of the
coming year that one Sunday his wife had,
for the first time, taken his arm for a stroll to
the Castle Hill. They were returning to their
little house, Susan pale and exhausted by her
exertions, with the two children trudging
quietly behind, when, as they drew near their
door, they saw a strange gentleman, tall,
young, and good-looking, speaking with Mrs.
Bright, their next neighbour.