“Because there’s nothing there, my deary,” said the captain.  “Don’t be took aback, pretty creetur!  Don’t for the sake of Wal’r as was dear to all on us!  That there lad,” said the captain, “arter working with the best, and standing by the fainthearted, and never making no complaint nor sign of fear, and keeping up a spirit in all hands that made ’em honor him as if he’d been a admiral—­that lad, alone with the second mate and one seaman, was left, of all the beatin’ hearts that went aboard that ship, the only living creeturs—­lashed to a fragment of the wreck, and drifting on the stormy sea.”

“Were they saved?” cried Florence.

“Days and nights they drifted on them endless waters,” said the captain, “until at last—­no! don’t look that way, Pretty!—­a sail bore down upon ’em, and they was, by the Lord’s mercy, took aboard, two living, and one dead.”

“Which of them was dead?” cried Florence.

“Not the lad I speak on,” said the captain.

“Thank God!  Oh, thank God!”

“Amen!” returned the captain hurriedly.  “Don’t be took aback!  A minute more, my Lady Lass! with a good heart!—­Aboard that ship, they went a long voyage, right away across the chart (for there wa’n’t no touching nowhere), and on that voyage the seaman as was picked up with him died.  But he was spared, and—.”

The captain, without knowing what he did, had cut a slice of bread from the loaf, and put it on his hook (which was his usual toasting fork), on which he now held it to the fire; looking behind Florence with great emotions in his face, and suffering the bread to blaze and burn like fuel.

“Was spared,” repeated Florence, “and—­”

“And come home in that ship,” said the captain, still looking in the same direction, “and—­don’t be frightened, Pretty!—­and landed; and one morning come cautiously to his own door to take a observation, knowing that his friends would think him drowned, when he sheered off at the unexpected—­”

“At the unexpected barking of a dog?” cried Florence quickly.

“Yes!” roared the captain.  “Steady, darling! courage!  Don’t look round yet.  See there! upon the wall!”

There was the shadow of a man upon the wall close to her.  She started up, looked round, and, with a piercing cry, saw Walter Gay behind her!

She had no thought of him but as a brother, a brother rescued from the grave; a shipwrecked brother, saved, and at her side,—­and rushed into his arms.  In all the world he seemed to be her hope, her comfort, refuge, natural protector.  In his home-coming,—­her champion and knight-errant from childhood’s early days,—­there came to Florence a compensation for all that she had suffered.

On that night within the little Shop a light arose for her that never ceased to shed its brilliance on her path.  Young, strong, and powerful, Walter Gay in his chivalrous reverence and love for her, would henceforth protect her life from sadness.