ing there. The young men,
removing their beavers, obeyed him.

"Though more substantial fare be wanting, I can serve you with a stoup
of Canary, young sirs; and your walk, judging by my own taste, will
render such acceptable," said the captain. Assuring him that they were
in no way fatigued, they declined the wine on the plea of the early
hour, and their not having been in the habit of drinking aught except a
glass of ale at dinner or supper.

"A prudent custom for those not advanced in life," he observed; "and
now, young sirs, to what cause am I indebted for this visit?"

"We have a long story to narrate, kind sir," answered the elder youth,
"and we would first, tell you our names, and whence we come; which, in
your hospitable kindness, you have not yet inquired. We are the sons of
your old shipmate Captain Vaughan Audley, who, it has been supposed for
the last ten years or more, perished among those who formed the first
settlement in Virginia, planted by the brave Sir Walter Raleigh. For
that long period our dear mother, notwithstanding the reports which
reached her, has never altogether abandoned the hope that he might be
alive; and though compelled to assume widow's weeds, she has remained
faithful to his memory and refused again to wed."

"A true wife and honest woman, such as I delight to honour," observed
the captain; "but alack! I received too certain news of my old
comrade's death to make me doubt that he had passed away to that better
land where we all hope to meet."

"Truly, our mother, notwithstanding her expressions to the contrary, had
begun to believe the same," answered the young man; "when about ten days
gone by, there came to the gate of our house near Dartmouth, where we
have lived since our father's departure, a seaman somewhat advanced in
life, whose pallid face spoke of sickness, and his tattered garments of
poverty long suffered. His name, he told us, was Richard Batten. He
had wandered, he said, over all parts of the known globe; but though his
pockets had been often filled with Spanish gold, they had again been
quickly emptied through his own folly, and the greed of pretended
friends; gambling, drinking, and other similar pursuits being his bane.
He now begged a crust and a draught of beer, or even of water, with
leave to lie down in an outhouse that he might rest his weary limbs. We
listened to his sad tale, and being sure that he spoke the truth,
invited him into the house and pla