l hands in the water. They had
not seen a warp of a vessel getting into the row, and had run over it,
and, as it tautened, they capsized. Your mother went down like a stone,
Mary, and was not found for three days a'terward; and when I seed her
sink I fell down in a fit." Here old Stapleton stopped, laid down his
pipe, and rested his face in his hands. Mary burst into tears. After a
few minutes he resumed: "When I came to, I found myself on board of the
ship in the captain's cabin, with the captain and his wife watching over
me--and then I came to understand that it was she who had sent for your
mother, and that she was living on board, and that your mother had at
first refused, because she knew that I did not like her to be on the
river, but wishing to see a ship had consented. So it was not so bad
a'ter all, only that a woman shouldn't act without her husband--but you
see, Mary, all this would not have happened if it hadn't been that I
overheard part of what was said; and you might now have had a mother,
and I a wife to comfort us, if it had not been for my unfortunate
_hearing_--so, as I said before, there's more harm than good that comes
from these senses--at least so it has proved to me. And now you have
heard my story, and how your mother died, Mary; so take care you don't
fall into the same fault, and be too fond of being looked at, which it
does somehow or another appear to me you have a bit of a hankering
a'ter--but like mother, like child, they say, and that's _human
natur'_."

When Stapleton had concluded his narrative, he smoked his pipe in
silence. Mary sat at the table, with her hands pressed to her temples,
apparently in deep thought; and I felt anything but communicative. In
half-an-hour the pot of beer was finished, and Stapleton rose.

"Come, Mary, don't be thinking so much; let's all go to bed. Show Jacob
his room, and then come up."

"Jacob can find his own room, father," replied Mary, "without my showing
him; he knows the kitchen, and there is but one other below."

I took my candle, wished them good night, and went to my bed, which,
although very homely, was at all events comfortable.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE WARMTH OF MY GRATITUDE PROVED BY A VERY COLD TEST--THE ROAD TO
FORTUNE MAY SOMETIMES LEAD OVER A BRIDGE OF ICE--MINE LAY UNDER IT--AMOR
VINCET EVERYTHING BUT MY OBSTINACY, WHICH YOUNG TOM AND THE OLD DOMINIE
IN THE SEQUEL WILL PROVE TO THEIR COST.

For many days the fros