e and friend, but I am the person to judge what it is right to
do, and I should not have been warranted in risking the lives of the
crew, even to attempt saving that of the commander."

Poor Desmond was silenced, and though quite indifferent to the
consequences, he felt that he had already gone further than he ought to
have ventured. He was unable to recover his spirits during the
remainder of the passage; he could scarcely say whether he was most
sorry to lose his uncle or Tom Rogers, who was to him more even than a
brother. From their earliest days, with slight intervals, they had been
shipmates and friends; then, again, he thought of the grief Tom's death
would cause at Halliburton; and he had a slight inkling of the
engagement between Lucy Rogers and his uncle, and having faith in the
tender nature of young ladies' hearts, he fully believed that hers would
be broken. He had read Falconer's _Shipwreck_, and remembered the
lines, "With terror pale unhappy Anna read," as she received the news of
Palaemon's loss.

At length the ship reached Portsmouth, and was ordered at once to go
into harbour. Desmond, to whom the first lieutenant had been very civil
during the remainder of the voyage, asked leave to go on shore, that he
might communicate the sad news to Admiral Triton, should he be at
Southsea, and get him to break it to Tom's family. The first
lieutenant, who also knew of Adair's engagement to Miss Rogers, very
willingly gave him leave; for though he had acted according to the best
of his judgment in not making further efforts to pick up his commander,
he could not help reflecting that censorious remarks might be made on
his conduct, and he was anxious to avoid any bad construction being put
upon it.

Gerald hurried on shore, and made his way as fast as he could to
Southsea; on reaching the admiral's house, he was at once admitted, and
ushered into the drawing-room, where he found Mrs Deborah and Mrs
Murray seated at the tea-table; and almost before he had time to open
his mouth, the admiral stumped into the room.

"Who are you?" he asked, examining his features; "I know you--you need
not tell me; you are my old friend Paddy Adair's nephew. I remember him
when he was much younger than you are, and your jibs are cut much alike.
He sent you up with a message, I suppose--paying off his ship, and
couldn't come himself? We shall see him soon, however; he'd have come
fast enough had he supposed that a certain y