ld not shake off
the impression that he was going to die.

"Feel stronger!" exclaimed the wrecked giant. "Give me your hand. D'ee
feel _that_?"

"That" which Kate was to feel was a squeeze as a test of strength.

"There. Doesn't it hurt you? I believe I could make you cry if I was
to try."

And the captain did make her cry even without trying, for Kate was so
deeply touched with the weakness of the trembling squeeze, coupled with
the hearty kindness and little touches of fun in the prostrate man, that
she could not keep it down. Rising hurriedly, therefore, she flung her
unfinished comforter into Jessie's lap, left the room, and, retiring to
her chamber, wept quietly there. Those tears were not now, however, as
they had often been, tears of anxious sorrow, but of thankful joy.

Having accomplished this little matter, and relieved her feelings, she
returned to the parlour.

"I've been just trying to persuade him, Kate," said Jessie, as the
former entered, "that in a week or two a trip to Yarmouth will do him
_so_ much good, but he does not seem to think he will be equal to it."

"Come, now, Miss Jessie, that's not a fair way to put it. I have no
doubt that I shall be able enough--thanks to the good Lord who has
spared me--but what I think is that Yarmouth, pleasant though it be, is
not exactly what I want just now."

"What then, do you think would be better for you?" asked Kate.

"`The sea! The sea! The open sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever
free!'" answered the captain, with a gleam in the sunken eyes such as
had not been seen there for many days.

"Horrible thought!" said Jessie, with a pretended shudder.

"You know the proverb, `What's one man's meat is another man's poison,'"
returned the captain. "Ah! ladies, only those who have been cradled on
the deep for three quarters of a lifetime, and who love the whistling
winds, and the surging waves, and the bounding bark, know what it is to
long, as I do, for another rest upon my mother's breast:--

"`And a mother she was and is to me,
For I was born--was born on the open sea.'"

"I had no idea you were so poetical," said Jessie, much surprised at the
invalid's enthusiasm.

"Sickness has a tendency to make people poetical. I suppose," returned
the captain.

"But how are you to manage it? You can scarcely walk yet. Then excuse
me, you haven't got a ship, and I fear that not many owners would
intrust one to you till you are stronger. So