he had seen a spirit. "Who is it, Launcelot?"

And then Launcelot gave a shout that woke Tommy.

"It's, oh, _who_ do you think it is, Judy Jameson?"

And Judy whispered with a white face, "It looks like--my father. Is it
really--my father--Launcelot?" and Launcelot let the tiller go, and
caught hold of her hands, and said: "It really is, it really and truly
is, Judy Jameson."

Judy never knew how the boat reached the wharf, nor how she came to be
in her father's arms. But she knew that she should never be happier
this side of heaven than she was when he held her close and murmured in
her ear, "My own daughter, my own dear little girl."

It was an excited group that circled around them--Perkins and
Launcelot, and the dog, Terry, and last but not least, Anne, red-eyed
and dishevelled.

"Oh, Judy, Judy," she sobbed, when at last Judy came down to earth and
beamed on her. "We thought you were drowned, and I have cried all
night."

And at that Judy cried, too, and they sat down on the sand and had a
little weep together, comfortably, as girls will, when the danger is
over and every one is safe and happy.

"I'm all right," gasped Judy at last, mopping her eyes with a clean
handkerchief, offered her by the ever-useful Perkins. "I'm all
right--but--but--Anne was such a goosie,--and I am so happy--" And
with that she dropped her head on Anne's shoulder again and cried
harder than ever.

"Dear heart, don't cry," begged the Captain.

"She is tired to death," explained Launcelot.

"She needs her breakfast, sir," suggested Perkins.

"So do I," grumbled Tommy Tolliver, who stood in the background feeling
very much left out.

But even as they spoke, Judy slipped into her father's arms again, and
lay there quietly, as she murmured, so that no one else heard:

"'Home is the sailor from the sea'--oh, father, father, I knew you
would come back to me--I knew you would come back some day."

CHAPTER XXV

LAUNCELOT BUYS A COW

Never had Fairfax seen so many interesting arrivals as during that
second week in August.

On Monday came Dr. Grennell, mysterious and smiling; on Tuesday, Judge
Jameson, pale but radiant; on Wednesday, Tommy and Launcelot, bursting
with important news; on Thursday, Captain Jameson, with a joyful dark
maiden on one side of him, and a joyful fair maiden on the other; on
Friday, Perkins, beaming with the baggage, and on Saturday, the
Terry-dog, resignedly, in a crate.

And every one,