church there, to thank God for the successful completion of the great
enterprise. He was present when the big ship, having received from
other ships 8000 tons of coal, and some six hundred miles of the old
cable, went back to mid-ocean to grapple for the lost cable of 1865. He
assisted and watched with the deepest interest the amazing efforts of
scientific and mechanical power put forth in the mere matter of dragging
for the cable from the bottom, and observed with reverence, amounting
almost to awe, the great moving spirit of the whole affair, the
indomitable Mr Field, as he went to the bow and sat on the rope to feel
the quiver which told him it was dragging the bottom of the sea two
miles below. He was present, with blazing cheeks and eyes and bated
breath, when, on the 17th of August, the cable was caught, dragged to
the surface, and actually seen, and broke and sank again as deep as
ever--though not so deep as the hearts of those who saw it go! He
shared in the weary delays that followed, and in the final triumph when
the cable was fairly caught and at last brought on board, and carried to
the testing-room, amid intense excitement, lest it should prove to have
been damaged by its rough treatment; and his voice helped to swell the
roar of enthusiastic cheering that greeted the announcement that the old
cable was still alive!

But all this we must leave, and carry the reader back to old England
faster than the Great Eastern could have rushed--ay, faster than the
message on the flashing cable itself could have sped, for mind is more
subtle than matter, and thought is swifter than even the Atlantic
Telegraph.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

HOME!

"At last!" exclaimed Robin, bursting into his old home and seizing his
mother in his arms.

Robin had just returned home after the laying of the 1866 Atlantic
Cable, as briefly narrated in the last chapter.

It may be said with some truth that the old home became, during the next
few days, a private lunatic asylum, for its inmates went mildly mad with
joy.

Chief among the lunatics was uncle Rik, the retired sea-captain. That
madman's case, however, was not temporary derangement, like the others'.
It was confirmed insanity, somewhat intensified just then by the
nephew's return.

"So, young man," he said, one evening at supper, when the family
traveller was dilating to open-eyed-and-mouthed listeners, "you actually
believe that these cables are goin' to work?"

"Of co