g in the
elegant mansion. Death comes alike to the rich and the poor, and invades
the palace as well as the hovel.

Colonel Montague wept like a child; the strong man was shaken by the
throes of grief. He felt that he would have given all he had for the
consciousness that he had never deceived that kind and indulgent father
who lay silent in death before him. An hour after the sad event, Tom
Barkesdale tried to comfort his friend.

"I would give the world if I had never deceived him," moaned the
grief-stricken son.

"It was all for the best. Your father has passed away full of years and
honors. It is well as it is."

"No, no, Tom! It was all wrong."

"You have only saved him from misery, which might have killed him years
ago, for the doctor says he had a disease of the heart. Don't reproach
yourself, Ned."

"Where is the boy--Robert?" he asked suddenly. "I have wronged him still
more. Where is he?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since we left the boat."

"Go for him, Tom. Bring him back. He shall not suffer this wrong another
hour. He is a noble little fellow, and I am proud of him. Bring him
back."

Tom went to the wharf in the carriage, but the Skylark was three miles
down the bay, on her way to Camden. It was of no use to chase that boat,
and the messenger returned to his weeping friend.

"Go to him, Tom; tell him all, and bring him back," said Colonel
Montague; and his friend took the next steamer for Camden.

Little Bobtail had sailed as soon as the invalid was landed, for he was
anxious to be at home when the Eagle arrived. He had been up all night,
while Monkey had slept in the cook-room; and as soon as the Skylark was
clear of the harbor, the skipper gave the helm to the Darwinian, and
turned in. He was sleeping heavily in the cabin of the yacht, while the
telegraph wires were flashing all over the state the intelligence of the
death of the Hon. Mr. Montague. The wind was light, so that the Skylark
made a long passage: and Monkey did not wake the skipper till the yacht
was off North-east Point. He had slept five hours, and felt like a new
man. He went on shore as soon as the boat came up to the wharf, and
ascertained that the Eagle had not yet arrived. Walking up to the
cottage, he found his mother sitting on the front doorstep, in the
shade, sewing.

"Why, Robert, where did you come from?"

"From Belfast last."

"Did he die before you got there?"

"Die? Who?"

"Why, old Mr. Montague."