ready to drop, thinking that maybe Susan
was gone altogether, but that she had not the heart to tell me so. I
saw, however, that the ladies were burning feathers and holding salts to
her; and at last Mrs Leslie came out, and after I had told her all I
had said to Jane, with which she was much interested, she begged I would
not be cast down, as she hoped my wife would soon again come round. She
then went back to Susan's room, but soon returned.

"You may go in," she said, "and maybe, if she opens her eyes, the sight
of you will do her more good than anything else."

I did as she bid me, but as I leaned over Susan my heart sank, for she
did not seem to breathe at all, and looked so pale that I thought she
must really be dead. Still the young ladies kept applying the burnt
feathers and salts, and then one of them held a small looking-glass for
a moment over her mouth, and showed me that there was breath on it, and
that made me feel a little less miserable. At last the doctor came; he
felt her pulse, and looked very grave; then he opened her mouth, and,
having given her something, stood watching its effects.

Soon I could see that she was beginning to breathe, a slight colour
having come back to her cheeks, and then she opened her eyes, but she
seemed not to be looking at anything. Presently, however, she began to
move them, and uttering a faint cry she sat up, and, throwing her arms
around my neck, burst into tears.

"She will do now very well," said the doctor; and he and the ladies left
the room. In a little time, however, they came back and called me out,
telling Jane to go and sit with my wife. The doctor showed me some
physic bottles on the mantelpiece, and, saying that Jane knew what to do
with them, he began to make inquiries about the wreck and the little
boy, and how I had saved him.

I found that the ladies had got off his wet clothes, which Jane had hung
up to dry before the fire, while they had wrapped him up in their
shawls. The only thing which the ladies found in his pockets was a
little case. On opening it they saw that it contained a picture--a
likeness of the child himself, just as he was then dressed. It was but
slightly wet, as the water had not had time to soak it, so it was soon
dried.

"It must be carefully preserved, as it may assist to prove who he is,"
observed Mrs Leslie, though how that was to be was more than I could
tell. "It is slightly done in water-colours, evidently by a l