A noise which strongly reminded Harry of the rattling of the rigging in a gale of wind, was now heard in the hall, and Vingo presented himself at the door; he looked at Harry, then at his mistress, while the pupil of his eye gave place to its lighter counterpart, and raising both hands, he exclaimed,—­“De good Lord be praised! ’pears like I couldn’t be any fuller ob laugh if I find old Phillis hersef!” and grasping his master’s extended hand, he laughed until it seemed as if the corners of his mouth would meet.

“I’s right glad to see you, young massa, ’deed I is; but where is de old fellow Neptune?”

“Yes, yes, where is the faithful creature?” asked Sea-flower; “at our joy in seeing you, we have quite forgotten him.”

Just then the dog’s well remembered bark was heard at the door, and on opening it, the animal marched in, and laying a little parcel which he had brought in his mouth, upon the floor, he jumped upon the Sea-flower, nearly overpowering her, in his delight frisking from one to the other as if he were mad.  Harry was now, for the first time, aware that the dog had not come with him, and examining the parcel which he had brought, to his no little astonishment he found it was the identical curiously wrought block, which he had found after that dreadful night of the storm.  Among the many gifts which he had brought home to his mother and sister, he had forgotten this simple one, and now he remembered that he had not seen it for a long time.  Why the dog should have noticed so trifling a thing, was indeed singular.  Harry related the circumstances by which he had come in possession of the curiosity, and from the presents of silks, crapes, fruits, etc., which he had brought to the Sea-flower, she turned to the mysterious little curiosity with a greater interest, examining the grotesque figures with a fascination, when accidentally pressing a pearl setting, the box (for such it was discovered to be,) flew open, and revealed to her bewildered gaze—­what? good God! is it possible?  Neatly lined is the box, and lying therein—­a cross! the same which the Sea-flower had wrought with her own hands, and given her father when she saw him last!  Carved at the head of the cross are these words,—­“You will soon come to me again; then you will never leave us;” the child’s last words to her father.  O, how did they fall upon her heart now!  It seemed as if he were speaking to her from the skies, and unconsciously she looked upward, as if she might indeed catch the tones of her father’s voice, bidding her come away.  “We will come,” she softly whispered, “we shall soon be with you there;” and turning to her mother, she added,—­“it is not far, that better land; we may hear their glad shouts, if we will listen.”