with his master, by use and indulgence, no living being, in his
estimation, was as authoritative or as formidable as the
commander-in-chief; and the effect of the present spectacle, was to
induce him to hide his own face in self-abasement. Bluewater saw it all,
but he neither spoke, nor gave any token of his observation. He merely
prayed, and that right fervently, not only for his friend, but for his
humble and uncouth follower.

A reaction took place in the system of the wounded man, about nine
o'clock that night. At this time he believed himself near his end, and
he sent for Wycherly and his niece, to take his leave of them. Mrs.
Dutton was also present, as was Magrath, who remained on shore, in
attendance. Mildred lay for half an hour, bathing her uncle's pillow
with her tears, until she was removed at the surgeon's suggestion.

"Ye'll see, Sir Gervaise," he whispered--(or "Sir Jairvis," as he always
pronounced the name,)--"ye'll see, Sir Jairvis, that it's a duty of the
faculty to _prolong_ life, even when there's no hope of _saving_ it; and
if ye'll be regairding the judgment of a professional man, Lady
Wychecombe had better withdraw. It would really be a matter of honest
exultation for us Plantagenets to get the rear-admiral through the
night, seeing that the surgeon of the Caesar said he could no survive the
setting sun."

At the moment of final separation, Bluewater had little to say to his
niece. Ho kissed and blessed her again and again, and then signed that
she should be taken away. Mrs. Dutton, also, came in for a full share of
his notice, he having desired her to remain after Wycherly and Mildred
had quitted the room.

"To your care and affection, excellent woman," he said, in a voice that
had now sunk nearly to a whisper--"we owe it, that Mildred is not unfit
for her station. Her recovery would have been even more painful than her
loss, had she been restored to her proper family, uneducated, vulgar,
and coarse."

"That could hardly have happened to Mildred, sir, in any circumstances,"
answered the weeping woman. "Nature has done too much for the dear
child, to render her any thing but delicate and lovely, under any
tolerable circumstances of depression."

"She is better as she is, and God be thanked that he raised up such a
protector for her childhood. You have been all in all to her in her
infancy, and she will strive to repay it to your age."

Of this Mrs. Dutton felt too confident to need assur