the sailor: since he could not swim. There was but one
conclusion to which they could come. Their companion must have been
drowned.

With heavy hearts they turned their faces toward the shore,--thinking
more of the sad fate of the sailor than their own future.

Scarce had they proceeded a dozen steps, when a shout, heard from
behind, caused them to come to a sudden stop.

"Avast there!" cried a voice that seemed to rise from out the depths of
the sea.

"It's Bill!" exclaimed all three in the same breath.

"'Old on my 'arties, if that's yerselves that I see!" continued the
voice. "Arrah, 'old on there. I'm so tired wadin', I want a short spell
to rest myself. Wait now, and I'll come to yez, as soon as I can take a
reef out of my tops'ls."

The joy caused by this greeting, great as it was, was scarce equal to
the surprise it inspired. They who heard it were for some seconds
incredulous. The sound of the sailor's voice, well known as it was, with
something like the figure of a human being dimly seen through the
uncertain mist that shadowed the surface of the water was proof that he
still lived; while, but the moment before, there appeared substantial
proof that he must have gone to the bottom. Their incredulity even
continued, till more positive evidence to the contrary came before them,
in the shape of the old man-o'-war's-man himself; who, rapidly splashing
through the more shallow water, in a few seconds stood face to face with
the three brave boys whom he had so lately urged to abandon him.

"Bill, is it you?" cried all three in a breath.

"Auch! and who else would yez expect it to be? Did yez take me for 'ould
Neptune risin' hout of the say? Or did yez think I was a mare-maid? Gee
me a grip o' yer wee fists, ye bonny boys. Ole Bill warn't born to be
drowned!"

"But how did ye come, Bill? The tide's been rising ever since we left
you."

"Oh!" said Terence, "I see how it is, the bay isn't so deep after all:
you've waded all the way."

"Avast there, master Terry! not half the way, though I've waded part of
it. There's wather between here and where you left me, deep enough to
dhrown Phil Macool. I didn't crass the bay by wading at all--at all."

"How then?"

"I was ferried on a nate little craft--as yez all knows of--the same
that carried us safe to the sand-spit."

"The spar?"

"Hexactly as ye say. Just as I was about to gee my last gasp, something
struck me on the back o' the head, making me duck un