“You will remain with your mother to-night, Marble,” I observed.  “I will keep the sloop at an anchor until I can see you in the morning, when we will settle the future a little more deliberately.”

“I should not like to lose my son so soon after finding him,” the old woman anxiously remarked.

“No fear of me, mother—­I berth under your roof to-night, and so many more in the bargain, that you’ll be glad enough to be rid of me in the end.”

I then left the house, followed by Marble, towards the boat.  As we reached the little piece of bottom-land, I heard a sort of suppressed sob from the mate, and, turning round, was surprised to see the tears running down his sun-burned cheeks.  His wrought-up feelings had at last obtained the mastery; and this rude, but honest creature, had fairly given in, under the excitement of this strange admixture of joy, wonder, shame, and natural emotion.  I took his hand, gave it a hearty squeeze, but said nothing; though I stopped, unwilling to go nearer to Neb until my companion had regained his composure.  This he did, sufficiently to speak, in the course of a minute or two.

“It’s all like a dream-to me, Miles,” Moses at length muttered—­“more out of natur’ like, than setting up for a hermit.”

“You’ll soon get accustomed to the change, Marble; then everything will seem in the ordinary way, and natural.”

“To think of my being a son, and having a real, living mother!”

“You must have known that you had parents once, though you are fortunate in finding one of them alive at your time of life.”

“And she an honest woman!  A mother the President of the United States, or the first commodore in the navy, needn’t be ashamed of!”

“All that is fortunate, certainly; especially the first.”

“She’s a bloody good-looking old woman in the bargain.  I’ll have her dressed up and carry her down to town, the first opportunity.”

“What would you give an old woman that trouble for?  You’ll think better of these matters, in the long run.”

“Better!  Yes, I’ll take her to Philadelphia, and perhaps to Baltimore.  There’s the gardens, and the theatres, and the museums, and lots of things that I dare say the dear old soul never laid eyes on.”

“I’m mistaken in your mother, if she would not prefer a church to all of them put together.”

“Well, there’s churches in all of them towns.  Put it on a religious footing, if you will, and I ought to take my mother as soon as possible down to York.  She’s old, you see, and cannot live for ever, just to oblige me; and here has she been tied down to one church all her days, giving her no ch’ice nor opportunity.  I dare say, now, variety is just as agreeable in religion, as in anything else.”

“You are nearer right there, Moses, than you think yourself, possibly.  But we can talk of all these things to-morrow.  A good night’s rest will give us cooler heads in the morning.”