ed on board, leaving our child under the charge of a friend at
Colombo. I returned as soon as possible, and finding my wife yearning
for her little one, I resolved to send her to her. A dhow was on the
point of sailing, in which several friends had taken a passage. I
committed our child and nurse to their charge. The dhow never reached
her destination, and we have every reason to believe that she foundered
with all on board."

"That is indeed strange!" I said aloud. I stopped, for I was afraid of
raising hopes in the heart of the father which might be disappointed.
He heard me.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When was this?" I inquired.

"In the month of July, in the year ---," he said.

"That is indeed wonderful," I exclaimed, scarcely able to restrain my
feelings. "I was a child at the time," I said, "but I was on board a
frigate, which fell in with the wreck of a dhow. The only people alive
on board were an Indian nurse and a child--a little girl. The nurse
died; but the child was taken care of by my mother, and is now under the
protection of the family of the commander of the brig to which I belong,
Captain Schank, the officer who wrote to you on the subject of Mr
Herbert's death."

"God be praised!" exclaimed Mr Bramston. "I cannot have the shadow of
a doubt that the little girl who was picked up by your frigate was my
daughter."

"By-the-by, I have a man with me who was on board the `Boreas' at the
time, and he can tell you even more than I can," I remarked.

Mr Bramston was eager to see him. I sent for Kiddle. He corroborated
my account, adding further particulars, which left no doubt whatever on
the mind of Mr Bramston that the Little Lady--my Emily--was his
daughter.

"And is she a pretty child? Can you give me an idea of her size and
appearance?"

"Yes, she is, sir, indeed, very pretty; but you must remember she is no
longer a child; she is a young lady," I answered, feeling that my voice
was very likely to betray my feelings.

"I long to see her," exclaimed Mr Bramston. "But I must break the
tidings gently to her mother, or the sudden joy may be too much for
her."

We were busily employed all the next day getting up jury-masts, and not
till the next evening was I able to go into the cabin. I was then
introduced to Mrs Bramston. I found that she was somewhat prepared for
the narration I had to give her. The moment I saw her I was convinced
that Emily was her daughter, for th