eping at
the hotel, and had not yet come out of his room, which convinced me that
he had been knocked up the previous day by sea-sickness, and also that
he did not know that we were trying to get ahead of him. The postchaise
being ordered, we at once started, and, travelling as fast as the horses
could get along, without any accident reached Mr Pengelley's. Harry
was of course very anxious to see his mother; and accordingly, leaving
Captain Leslie with Mr Pengelley, he and Jerry, with Susan and I, set
off for the old house where she and her father lived. Mr Pengelley,
Jerry told us, had already somewhat prepared her for the recovery of her
son.

As we approached the house we saw in the garden a fair lady dressed in
black, who, though thin and careworn, was still very handsome, attending
to an old gentleman seated under a tree in an arm-chair. I guessed at
once she must be Mrs Stafford. Harry, who had been on the box, got
down, while Jerry stumped forward, as fast as his wooden leg would let
him, to announce us. He had scarcely begun to speak when, the lady,
fixing her eyes on Harry, rushed forward.

"You are indeed my son!" she exclaimed, as Harry supported her in his
arms--for, as may be supposed, she was well-nigh overcome with
agitation. However, it is more than I can do to describe, all the
particulars of the meeting. Harry was also not a little agitated, but,
after some time, both he and Mrs Stafford became calm, and she then led
him forward towards the old gentleman in the chair, who was, as I of
course knew, her father, Mr Hayward. He glanced up at Harry, with a
look of astonishment in his countenance.

"Why," he said, "I thought he had been drowned long, long ago!"

It was evident that he took Harry for his father. It satisfied me that
Harry must be very like him. That he was so was further proved when
Mrs Stafford produced a miniature of her husband, which might have been
that of Harry--though, according to Susan's notion, it was not so
handsome. In the trunks, which Mrs Stafford opened in our presence,
she recognised, with many a sigh, various articles, and among them
another miniature was discovered still more resembling Harry. When Mrs
Stafford heard who Susan was, she embraced her as if she were her
sister, and the tears fell down from her eyes as she thanked her over
and over again for her loving treatment of Harry.

We left Harry with his mother, and returned to the house of Mr
Pengelle