nd the mate drunk. The mate began
to cry when we struck. I alone got on to the jib-boom and jumped.
What became of the others I know not, but I jumped on to the rock by
which you found me this morning. The vessel broke up in a very short
time. I heard the men crying bitterly, but the mate's voice was
louder than any. The captain of course was below, and so, when last
I saw them, were his wife and child, but she might have rushed upon
deck. I was almost sucked back twice, but managed to scramble up.
It was not until daylight that I knew I was on the mainland, and
climbed down to the sands."

As this strange history proceeded, I know not who in that little
audience was most affected. The jury, fascinated by the sweet voice
of the speaker, as well as the mystery about the vessel and its
unwitnessed disappearance, leant forward in their seats with strained
and breathless attention. My mother could not take her eyes off the
stranger's face. As he hesitated over the name of the ship, her very
lips grew white in agonised suspense, but when the coroner read "the
_James and Elizabeth_," she sank back in her seat with a low
"Thank God!" that told me what she had dreaded, and how terribly.
I myself knew not what to think, nor if my ears had heard aright.
Part of the tale I knew to be a lie; but how much? And what of the
_Mary Jane?_ I looked round about. A hush had succeeded the closing
words of Rhodojani. Even the coroner was puzzled for a moment; but
improbable as the evidence might seem, there was none to gainsay it.
I alone, had they but known it, could give this demon the lie--I, an
unnoticed child.

The coroner put a question or two and then summed up. Again the old
drowsy insensibility fell upon me. I heard the jury return the
usual verdict of "Accidental Death," and, as my mother led me from
the room, the voice of Joe Roscorla (who had been on the jury)
saying, "Durn all foreigners! I don't hold by none of 'em." As the
door slammed behind us, shutting out at last those piercing eyes, a
shrill screech from the landlord's parrot echoed through the house--

"All hands lost! Lord ha' mercy on us!"

CHAPTER VI.

TELLS HOW A FACE LOOKED IN AT THE WINDOW OF LANTRIG; AND IN WHAT
MANNER MY FATHER CAME HOME TO US.

My mother and I walked homeward together by way of the cliffs.
We were both silent. My heart ached to tell the whole story, and
prove that my tale of the _Mary Jane_ was no wanton lie; but f