d be up, and go and help them," exclaimed Ned Davis,
endeavouring to haul on his wet jacket. "Are we to let our shipmates
perish and lie here idle? It is not what the captain would have thought
of; and if he had not been wounded he would have been up now, and
looking out to help them."

This was the first intimation Mr Finlayson had that Captain Denham was
wounded.

"Why, that must be looked to," he observed. "Really, I do not think he
can be attended to properly in this hut. We must manage to get a litter
of some sort to carry him to the castle."

This remark was made to Lady Sophy. She appeared to hesitate.

"What will Nora say?" she observed.

"Say! my dear lady! What possible difficulty can there be about the
matter," exclaimed the lawyer.

He might not have interpreted aright the agitation exhibited by Lady
Nora on discovering the parentage of the rescued officer.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

When, however, Mr Finlayson's proposition was made to the fishwife, she
at first refused to agree to it, declaring that her son would recover as
rapidly in the hut as he could in the castle; but on the lawyer's
assuring her that she was mistaken, she consented to let him be removed
if he wished it.

"Let me ask him then," said Mr Finlayson.

For after Ned Davis had vacated the widow's bed, Captain Denham (for so
he must still be called) had been placed on it. In the meantime,
knowing that the fresh air would benefit Lady Nora, her cousin had led
her to the front of the hut, and made her rest on a bench which was
fixed there. Sitting down by her side, she took her hand.

"Nora," she said, "this is a strange tale we have heard. I can scarcely
believe it. What do you think?"

"I know not," answered Nora faintly. "But can it be possible that he
(Captain Denham I mean) whom we have known so long, who is so refined,
so high-born in appearance and manners, can be the son of this
wild-looking and ignorant fishwife? and yet, Sophy, she claims him as
her son, and he does not deny it; and you observed that mark upon his
arm; when she saw it, all doubt vanished. Oh, Sophy, help me, guide me,
advise me. What can I do? I did not know till now, when I thought him
lost and then had him thus suddenly restored to life, how deeply I loved
him. I tell you this, dear cousin, but I would not utter it to any
other human being; but what can he be to me for the future? My heart, I
feel, will break, Sophy."

"Trials are