vening of the wreck. He was greatly astonished.

"But he is a brave fellow, Nelly; and though I cannot say what I should
have been ready to do to him had I known it before, yet he saved my
life, and risked his to do so, and I must not forget that. I must
forget all else, and go and thank him heartily."

"Go, Michael," said Nelly, "and tell him that I bless him from my heart,
and wish him every happiness; but do not ask him to come here. It is
better for his sake he should not be seeing me and fancying that I can
ever care for him."

Michael promised to behave discreetly in the matter, and set off.

The heavy gale was still blowing. He wondered as he went along how the
path was so much steeper and rougher than it used to be, not aware how
greatly his strength had decreased.

On reaching the mill he saw old Cowan standing at the door. He inquired
for Eban.

"Where is he? That's more than I can tell you, lad," he answered. "He
went away the other evening and has not since come back. I do not
inquire after his movements, and so I suppose it is all right."

Michael then told the old man of the service his son had rendered him.

"Glad he saved thy life, lad; he is a brave fellow, no doubt of that;
but it is strange that he should not have come in to have his clothes
dried and get some rest."

None of the household could give any further account of Eban.

Michael, again expressing such thanks as his heart prompted, returned
home.

Several days passed and rumours came that Eban had been seen on the way
to Falmouth: and his father, who had become anxious about him, setting
off, discovered that he had gone on board a large ship which had put in
there to seek shelter from the gale. He had left no message, and no
letter was received by any of his family to say why he had gone, or what
were his intentions for the future.

During the winter two or three seizures of smuggled goods were made;
they belonged to the band of which Eban was supposed to have been the
leader: and old Cowan, whose venture it was known they were, became
gradually downcast and desponding. His fishing-boats were unsuccessful;
he offered one for sale, which Uncle Reuben and Michael purchased
between them; another was lost; and, his mill being burned down, he died
soon afterwards broken-hearted, leaving his family in utter destitution.

In the spring Michael and Nelly married. The wedding, if not a very gay
one, was the merriest which had