The steamer came up to the landing-place, and my grandfather and I went down the steps to meet Captain Sayers and the stranger.

‘Here’s your new neighbour, Sandy,’ said the captain.  ’Will you show him the way to his house, whilst I see to your goods?’

‘Welcome to the island,’ said my grandfather, grasping his hand.

He was a tall, strongly-built man, very sun-burnt and weather-beaten.

‘Thank you,’ said the man, looking at me all the time.  ’It is pleasant to have a welcome.’

‘That’s my grandson Alick,’ said my grandfather, putting his hand on my shoulder.

‘Your grandson,’ repeated the man, looking earnestly at me; ’your grandson—­indeed!’

‘And now come along,’ said my grand father, ’and get a bit of something to eat; we’ve got a cup of coffee all ready for you at home, and you’ll be right welcome, I assure you.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said the stranger.

We were walking up now towards the house, and the man did not seem much inclined to talk.  I fancied once that I saw a tear in his eye, but I thought I must have been mistaken.  What could he have to cry about?  I little knew all that was passing through his mind.

‘By the bye,’ said my grandfather, turning round suddenly upon him, ‘what’s your name?  We’ve never heard it yet!’

The man did not answer, and my grandfather looked at him in astonishment.  ‘Have you got no name?’ he said, ’or have you objections to folks knowing what your name is?’

‘Father!’ said the man, taking hold of my grandfather’s hand, ’don’t you know your own lad?’

’Why, it’s my David!  Alick, look Alick, that’s your father; it is indeed!’

And then my grandfather fairly broke down, and sobbed like a child, whilst my father grasped him tightly with one hand, and put the other on my shoulder.

‘I wouldn’t let them tell you,’ he said ’I made them promise not to tell you till I could do it myself.  I heard of Jem Millar’s death as soon as I arrived in England, and I wrote off and applied for the place at once.  I told them I was your son, father, and they gave me it at once, as soon as they heard where I had been all these years.’

‘And where have you been, David, never to send us a line all the time?’

‘Well, it’s a long story,’ said my father; ’let’s come in, and I’ll tell you all about it.’

So we went in together, and my father still looked at me.  ’He’s very like HER, father,’ he said, in a husky voice.

I knew he meant my mother!

‘Then you heard about poor Alice?’ said my grandfather.

‘Yes,’ he said; ’it was a very curious thing.  A man from these parts happened to be on board the vessel I came home in, and he told me all about it.  I felt as if I had no heart left in me, when I heard she was gone.  I had just been thinking all the time how glad she would be to see me.’