red the ship to be got under weigh, and
she stood for Zanzibar, where he hoped, by other means, to be more
successful, although the general opinion on board was that poor Garth
had been killed, and that nothing more would be heard of him.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

The "Ione" had been upwards of three years on the station, and of late
the sick list had been greatly increased, still the commander persevered
in his efforts to capture slavers; but the Arabs, grown cautious,
managed to avoid him, and for some time not a single dhow had been
taken.

One morning, as the ship lay becalmed on the shining ocean, with the
sun's rays beaming down as from a furnace on the heads of the crew, the
smoke of a steamer was seen coming from the southward. She rapidly
approached, and coming nearer, made her number. She was a man-of-war.
Had she came out to relieve the "Ione"? Every eye on board watched her
eagerly. Stopping her way a boat was lowered; her commander came on
board. No sooner were the contents of the despatch he brought known
than cheers rose from fore and aft, joined in by the poor fellows in
their hammocks. The "Ione" was to return home immediately. Before long
a breeze sprang up, the two ships parted, and the corvette, under all
sail, steered for the Cape.

"The only thing I regret is going home without nearing of young Garth,"
observed the commander, as he walked the deck with his first lieutenant;
"I would have given much to find him, but I fear that when he fell into
their hands, the rascally Arabs killed him."

"I am inclined to your notion, sir," answered Mr Hanson; "but I still
have a lingering hope that by some means or other he may have escaped,
although, as, notwithstanding all our inquiries and the rewards offered,
no tidings of him had reached Zanzibar when we left the island, it is, I
confess, very faint indeed."

Charley Meadows was the only person in the midshipmen's berth who would
not abandon all expectation of again seeing his friend, and who would
very gladly have remained another year on the station with the chance of
hearing of Ned. He dreaded also the melancholy duty which might fall to
his lot of informing Lieutenant Pack and Miss Sarah and sweet Mary of
Ned's fate.

As the ship drew near England he thought over and over again of what he
should say; no one had written, as the commander had been unwilling to
alarm the boy's friends while any uncertainty existed. They would,
therefore, on se