es, was deserted. It was almost dark, too,
lighted only by one badly-trimmed paraffin lamp that swung above the
door of the room or office which the keeper occupied during the day. Its
flickering rays fell on the deep, sluggish waters of the canal as they
lapped and gurgled round the wet, slimy beams on which the planks were
supported. Mr. Grey stood somewhat apart from the others, and gazed idly
at the shadows cast by the dimly-burning lamp, as they swayed backwards
and forwards, up and down, with each slow movement of the water; yet he
did not actually see anything. He was thinking of the winsome wee pair
whom he had come upon a few days before sitting on a tree-stump in
Copsley Wood--of their trusting eyes, their sweet voices, their artless
prattle, their firm faith in the protecting power of their heavenly
Father. Assuredly He had them in His careful keeping some place; but
where?--on earth or in heaven? This was the question which so sorely
perplexed the anxious searchers.

Suddenly something attracted Mr. Grey's attention--something that had
got jammed in a space between two rotten beams which floated alongside
the flooring of the crazy old wharf--and his heart leaped in his breast
with a throb of sickening fear. He stooped over the water, reached
forward his stout staff, and with its hooked head carefully hauled up
that something which he instinctively shrank from seeing, without
exactly knowing why.

Yet it was nothing much after all, neither more nor less than what may
be seen any day drifting hither and thither amongst scraps and straws
upon the surface of a stream--only a child's sailor-hat, which had once
been white, but was now sadly discoloured, soaked with water, and
hanging almost in pieces. A faded blue ribbon dangled from its battered
brim, bearing on its surface in tarnished gold letters the title of the
ship to which its wearer belonged--H.M.S. _Dreadnought_.

With a queer choking in his throat Mr. Grey carried his find close to
what light there was beneath the dirty lamp, while with strained, eager
faces the other men peered over his shoulder, and then, sure enough,
they saw what they feared. For there, inside the hat, stitched to the
lining of the crown by a careful mother's loving fingers, was a piece of
tape on which a name was plainly written, the name of--Darby Dene!

CHAPTER VI.

THE CRUISE OF H.M.S. "DREADNOUGHT."

"Shall we call this a boat out at sea,
We four sailors