he moved towards the companion-hatch, "my investigations
have no reference whatever to yourself."

Mr Welton made no reply, but a slight look of perplexity that had
rested on his brow while he read the letter cleared away.

"Follow me, Mr Larks," he said, turning and descending the ladder
sailor-fashion--which means crab-wise.

"Do you happen to know anything," asked Mr Larks, as he prepared to
follow, "about a man of the name of Jones? I have come to inquire
particularly about him, and about your son, who, I am told--"

The remainder of the sentence was lost in the cabin of the floating
light. Here, with the door and skylight shut, the mate remained
closeted for a long time in close conference with the keen-eyed man,
much to the surprise of the two men who constituted the watch on deck,
because visitors of any kind to a floating light were about as rare as
snowflakes in July, and the sudden advent of a visitor, who looked and
acted mysteriously, was in itself a profound mystery. Their curiosity,
however, was only gratified to this extent, that they observed the
stranger and the mate through the skylight bending earnestly over
several newspapers spread out before them on the cabin table.

In less than an hour the keen-eyed man re-appeared on deck, bade the
mate an abrupt good-bye, nodded to the men who held the ropes for him,
descended into the boat, and took his departure for the shore whence he
had come.

By this time the sun was beginning to approach the horizon. The mate of
the floating light took one or two turns on the deck, at which he gazed
earnestly, as if his future destiny were written there. He then glanced
at the compass and at the vessel's bow, after which he leant over the
side of the red-dragon, and looked down inquiringly at the flow of the
tide. Presently his attention was fixed on the shore, behind which the
sun was about to set, and, after a time, he directed a stern look
towards the sky, as if he were about to pick a quarrel with that part of
the universe, but thinking better of it, apparently, he unbent his
brows, let his eyes fall again on the deck, and muttered to himself,
"H'm! I expected as much."

What it was that he expected, Mr John Welton never told from that day
to this, so it cannot be recorded here, but, after stating the fact, he
crossed his arms on his broad chest, and, leaning against the stern of
his vessel, gazed placidly along the deck, as if he were taking a
compla