“Well,” said the captain, as he rose to go, “you must hurry and get well as fast as you can.  The doctor told me that he thought you ought to go North and recruit a little; so I wrote to the Admiral, and obtained you a sick-leave.  The dispatch boat will be along in a day or two, and I will send you up the river on her.  I think it is nothing more than right that you should go home for a couple of months, at least, for you have been through a good deal for a young man of your age.”

The thought that he was soon to see his home again did Frank more good than all the medicine the doctor had given him; and, by the time the mail steamer arrived, he was able to walk about.  In two weeks they arrived at Cairo.  The steamer had scarcely touched the wharf-boat before Archie, who had seen his cousin standing on deck, sprang on board.

We can not describe the meeting.  To Archie it was like finding one risen from the dead; for he had heard of Frank’s capture, and had never expected to see him again.  A multitude of questions were asked and answered on both sides; and when Frank informed Archie that he was on his way home, the latter abruptly left him, and hurried to the fleet paymaster to ask permission to accompany his cousin.  This, as business was dull, and as Archie had always been very faithful, was readily obtained.  They made preparations for immediate departure.  After Archie had telegraphed to his father that Frank was safe—­taking care, however, not to say one word about their coming home—­they took their seats in the cars, and soon arrived safely in Portland.  Frank remained there only one day, and then set out for Lawrence.

Only those who have been in similar circumstances can imagine what Frank’s feelings were, as he stood on the deck of the Julia Burton, and found himself once more in sight of his native village.  Familiar objects met his eye on every side.  There were the weeds that surrounded the perch-bed, where he, in company with George and Harry Butler, was fishing when he made the acquaintance of Charles Morgan, who was afterward the leader of the Regulators.  Above the perch-bed was the bass-ground, and to the left was Reynard’s Island, where the black fox had been captured.  Near the middle of the river lay Strawberry Island, which had been the silent witness of many a sailing match between the yachts of the village; in short, every thing looked exactly as it did when, just fifteen months before, he had sailed down the river on that same steamer, on his way to Portland.

As soon as the steamer was made fast to the wharf, Frank gave his trunk in charge of a drayman, and set out on foot for the cottage; for, impatient as he was to get home, he wished to have time to enjoy the sight of each familiar object along the road; besides, he wished to come in upon his folks (who little dreamed that he was so near to) suddenly, and take them by surprise.  Every thing in the village, and along the road, looked as natural as ever; not a tree, bush,