rne, rising, and
kindly placing her on a stool by her side.

Nelly could only answer with sobs.

Just then old Reuben himself entered, shaking the spray from his thick
coat.

"How is thy father, Nelly?" he asked.

"He has gone," she answered, sobbing afresh. "And, O Uncle Reuben, have
you seen Michael's boat? can you tell me where he is?"

"I have not forgotten him, Nelly, and have been along the shore as far
as I could make my way on the chance that he might have missed the
harbour, and had run for Kynance Cove, but not a sign of him or his boat
could I see. I wish I had better news for you, Nelly. And your good
father gone too! Don't take on so--he is free from pain now--happy in
heaven; and there is One above Who will look after Michael, though what
has become of him is more than I can tell you."

The old fisherman's words brought little comfort to poor Nelly, though
he and his wife and daughter did their best to console her. They
pressed her to remain with them, but she would not be absent longer from
her granny, and, thanking them for their kindness, hurried homewards.

The wind blew fiercely, but no rain had as yet fallen.

Their neighbour, having rendered all the assistance required, had gone
away, and the old dame and her young grandchild sat together side by
side in the outer room. They could talk only of Michael. The dame did
not dare to utter what she thought. His small boat might have been
swamped in the heavy sea, or he might have fallen overboard and been
unable to regain her; or, attempting to land on a rocky coast, she might
have been dashed to pieces, and he swept off by the receding surf. Such
had been the fate of many she had known.

As each succeeding gust swept by, poor Nelly started and trembled in
spite of her efforts to keep calm.

At length down came the rain battering against the small panes of glass.

At that instant there was a knocking at the door.

"Can you give us shelter from the storm, good folks?" said a voice; and,
the latch being lifted, an elderly gentleman, accompanied by two ladies,
one of whom was young and the other more advanced in life, appeared at
the entrance.

They evidently took it for granted that they should not be denied.

"You are welcome, though you come to a house of mourning," said Dame
Lanreath, rising, while Nelly hastened to place stools for them to sit
on.

"I am afraid, then, that we are intruders," said the gentleman, "and we
would o