ame ship along with my two brothers whom we had given
up as lost, and that all should come back again together, and their
ship drift into the very port they started from! I feel as if I
couldn't believe it; I'm sure I shouldn't if I read it in a book."

"It is strange, very strange; yet there are stranger things happening
around us every day, Eric, than any man could invent. But, tell me, has
Gideon yet spoken of Mr. Digby in his talk?"

"Bless you, sir, he's talked of nothing else! From what I can make out,
Mr. Digby has been the life and soul of the party, and that everybody
loved him you may guess from the fact that almost the first question of
every one that has come to, has been about him. But I beg pardon for
not asking before, sir; how is Mr. Digby, to-night?"

"Better, we hope. Certainly better than he was yesterday. He has not as
yet shown any gleam of consciousness, but he has been able to take
plenty of nourishment, and it is upon this that we ground a good hope.
But see, yonder comes the doctor, and I hope he will report favorably
of all." Never could a medical man have shown a greater interest in a
patient than Dr. Henderson did in Digby. He had heard portions of his
strange story from others of his patients who had been saved from the
ill-fated ship, and the loving solicitude of all had drawn from him an
answering tenderness.

"I shall stay with him to-night," said he, "if you will allow me, for I
anticipate a change in him soon, and I am extremely anxious that at
first he should receive enough information to satisfy him, and at the
same time that he should have no clue as to where he is or by whom he
is surrounded. After his intense excitement and the almost superhuman
fatigue he has undergone,--for it was he who was the last to give up,
and then not until the Hughsons were safe aboard the ship,--the least
shock might prove fatal. So, you go away and leave me with him. But
stay," added the doctor to Mr. Morton, who had now joined them; "just
now one of the men gave me this book--a Bible--which he found on the
ship; and as it bears the name of Howard Pemberton in the fly-leaf, I
brought it with me, and with especial interest, for, inclosed in the
cover, is a packet addressed to you, Mr. Morton."

Mr. Morton took the book with trembling hands, and when he had reached
his own room he sat alone and read with deep emotion the strange story
of his son's life. It ran as follows:

Baffin's Bay.

I