ching for them in every direction. No one noticed the disappearance of
the boat till next morning, and it was feared that the children had fallen
down some steep rocks, and had either been killed by the fall or drowned.
Bridget was nearly out of her senses, knowing that she had neglected the
children; and poor old Nancy was so ill from the shock and fear that she
would perhaps have died, only that she had Madam to think of.

When Granny's tea-time came and the children did not appear, Madam
naturally asked what was delaying them.

"Oh, then, indeed, madam, you mustn't expect to see them to-night! They've
been gettin' into mischief, and I can't bring them here to you."

Gran'ma was shocked.

"Now, Nancy," she said, "are you not too severe upon them, and for the
first fault? They have been doing so beautifully."

"Well, madam, I beg you'll leave them to me," said Nancy, making a great
struggle to speak as if nothing had happened worse than seemed from her
words. "I hope it will be all right with them to-morrow, and then they can
come in and ask your pardon."

"What did they do, Nancy?" asked Madam.

"Oh, they'll tell you themselves, I hope," said poor Nancy, striving to
satisfy her mistress without telling a positive untruth.

So the dear old lady went to sleep that night without having suffered
anything worse on the children's account than a little regret that they
had been punished by having their tea in the nursery, and being sent to bed
early.

Nancy could not rest, but spent the night wandering up and down the avenue
and on the road, watching for the return of messengers, who were continuing
the search about the rocks and all over the country, with the help of
lanterns. But day broke without bringing any sign of the children.

At last, in the dawn, the owner of the runaway boat came down to the beach
and missed his property. In an instant the truth flashed on him. The
children and the boat must have gone away together.

He sent for Walsh and Lally, who had just returned from different quarters,
hoping to hear when they arrived at the house that the children had already
got home.

"They're drowned," said the man. "My boat's gone with them, and where would
it be but to the bottom of the sea in that storm?"

"Then you may go up to the house yourself with that news," said Walsh; "for
it's not me that's goin' to carry it."

"Nor me," said Lally.

The three men stood gazing out to sea with tears in their e