nds upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the room,
and, flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down upon them.

"Is it over?" cried Dot.

"Yes!"

"Happily over?"

"Yes!"

"Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear the like of
it before?" cried Dot.

"If my boy in the Golden South Americas was alive----!" said Caleb,
trembling.

"He is alive!" shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes, and
clapping them in ecstasy. "Look at him! See where he stands before you,
healthy and strong! Your own dear son. Your own dear living, loving
brother, Bertha!"

All honour to the little creature for her transports! All honour to her
tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one another's arms!
All honour to the heartiness with which she met the sunburnt
sailor-fellow, with his dark streaming hair, half-way, and never turned
her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to kiss it freely, and to
press her to his bounding heart!

And honour to the Cuckoo too--why not?--for bursting out of the
trap-door in the Moorish Palace like a housebreaker, and hiccoughing
twelve times on the assembled company, as if he had got drunk for joy!

The Carrier, entering, started back. And well he might, to find himself
in such good company.

"Look, John!" said Caleb, exultingly, "look here! My own boy from the
Golden South Americas! My own son! Him that you fitted out, and sent
away yourself! Him that you were always such a friend to!"

The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand; but, recoiling, as some
feature in his face awakened a remembrance of the Deaf Man in the Cart,
said:

"Edward! Was it you?"

"Now tell him all!" cried Dot. "Tell him all, Edward; and don't spare
me, for nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes, ever again."

"I was the man," said Edward.

"And could you steal, disguised, into the house of your old friend?"
rejoined the Carrier. "There was a frank boy once--how many years is it,
Caleb, since we heard that he was dead, and had it proved, we
thought?--who never would have done that."

"There was a generous friend of mine once; more a father to me than a
friend," said Edward; "who never would have judged me, or any other man,
unheard. You were he. So I am certain you will hear me now."

The Carrier, with a troubled glance at Dot, who still kept far away from
him, replied, "Well! that's but fair. I will."

"You must know that when I left here a boy," said E