king along
the principal street one day, he had been attracted by a temperance
eating-house named the "Holly Tree." Entering it for the purpose of, as
he said, "revictualling the ship," he was rooted to the spot by hearing
a customer call out, "Another cup of coffee, please, Mrs Bancroft,"
while at the same moment an assistant at the counter addressed the
comely woman, who replied, "Yes, sir," by the name of "Lucy." Could
proof be more conclusive? Upon inquiry "Lucy" turned out in very truth
to be the widow of David Bancroft, and the lock of hair corresponded.
Of course O'Rook revealed to her the sad circumstances connected with
her husband's end. To say that Mrs Bancroft was overwhelmed with grief
would not be true. She had long mourned him as dead, and although the
information, corroborated as it afterwards was by Edwin Jack and Captain
Samson, did re-open the old wound to some extent, she nevertheless bore
it heroically, and took Simon O'Rook's comforting observations in good
part. But we must not anticipate. Let us return to Watty Wilkins.

Having broken the news of Ben Trench's death to the Bailie and his
family--and a terrible duty he found it to be,--Watty went straight to
his father's house. We drop the curtain on the meeting. The joy of the
elder Wilkins can only be fully understood by those who can say of an
only son, "He was lost and is found."

"Now, Watty, dear boy," said Mr Wilkins when they came to talk of
ordinary matters, "God has mingled mercy with my sorrows. My business
has indeed been ruined, and I have passed through the bankruptcy court;
but I am by no means so unfortunate as hundreds of people who have been
reduced to absolute poverty by this crash. You remember my brother
James--Uncle Jimmy? well, he has got a flourishing business in the West
Indies. For some years past he had been meditating the establishment of
an agency in connection with it in this city. The moment he heard of my
failure he offered to make me his agent here, with a good salary. Of
course I was only too glad and thankful to accept the offer, and after
my affairs were wound up, entered upon the office. So now, you see,
here I am, through God's goodness, still inhabiting the old house, which
I now rent from the person who purchased it. Of course I can no longer
keep a carriage, and it will cost me some calculation and economy to
make the two ends meet, but these are small matters."

"Oh, father, I'm so glad an