hush of expectation along her
decks, which nothing disturbed save the odd farmyard-like sounds of the
live stock somewhere forward.

The steamer was now rapidly approaching us, and by this time without
the aid of a glass I made her out to be a fine screw yacht of some
three hundred and fifty tons, painted black, with a yellow funnel
forward of amidships, which gave her the look of a gunboat. She had a
charthouse, or some such structure near her bridge, that was very
liberally glazed, and blinding flashes leapt from the panes of glass as
she rolled to and from the sun as though she were quickly firing cannon
charged with soundless and smokeless gunpowder. A figure paced the
filament of bridge that was stretched before her funnel. He wore a
gold band round his hat and brass buttons on his coat. Two or three
men leaned over the head rail viewing us as they approached, but her
quarter-deck was deserted. I could find no hint of female apparel or
of the blue serge of the yachtsman.

Old Parsons, taking his stand at the rail clear of the crowd, waited
until the yacht floated abreast, where with a few reverse revolutions
of her propeller she came to a stand within easy talking distance--as
handsome and finished a model as ever I had seen afloat.

"Ho, the yacht, ahoy!" shouted Captain Parsons.

"Hallo!" responded the glittering figure from the bridge, manifestly
the yacht's skipper.

"What yacht is that?"

"The _Mermaid_."

"Where are you from and where are you bound to?"

"From Madeira for Southampton," came back the response.

"That will do, Grace," cried I, joyfully.

"We took a lady and a gentleman off their yacht, the _Spitfire_, that
we found in a leaky condition yesterday," shouted Parsons, "having been
dismasted in a gale and blown out of the Channel. We have them aboard.
Will you receive them and set them ashore?"

"How many more besides them, sir?" bawled the master of the yacht.

"No more--them two only," and Parsons pointed to Grace and me, who
stood conspicuous, near the main rigging.

"Ay, ay, sir; we'll receive 'em. Will you send your boat?"

Captain Parsons flourished his hand in token of acquiescence; but he
stood near enough to enable me to catch a few growling sentences,
referring to the laziness of yachtsmen, which he hove at the twinkling
figure through his teeth in language which certainly did not accord
with his priestly tendencies.

There was no luggage to pack, no parcels to hu