ave than that."

"Thank you, sir; thank you," said I, and I hurried below to look for Mr
Merton. I found him hard at work writing a letter to send on shore; but
he instantly jumped up, and accompanied me on deck to assure the
lieutenant that I would return. So on shore I went with great joy; but
my knees almost trembled as I walked up the steep streets towards the
part of the town where my grandmother and aunt lived. I had seen a good
many strange places since last I walked down those streets on my way to
join the _Kite_, and though, after thinking a moment, I easily found the
road without asking, the houses seemed changed somehow or other. They
were lower and narrower and less fine-looking than I expected. At last
I reached the quiet little house I knew so well. By climbing up an iron
railing before it I could, when a boy, look into the parlour over the
blind. There wag no necessity to climb now. By holding on by the rail,
and stretching myself upon my toes, I could easily look in; I could not
help doing so before knocking. There I saw an old lady with a neat
white cap and dressed in black, bending over her knitting. Her back was
towards me; but somehow or other I did not think that it could be
Granny. Her figure was too small and slight for that of Aunt Bretta.
Who could it be then? My heart sank within me. It was some minutes
before I could muster courage to knock. At last I went up to the door.
A little girl opened it. She was deaf and dumb, so she did not
understand what I said, and I could not understand her signs.

"Come in," said a voice from the parlour. "Who is that? what does he
want?"

On this I pushed open the parlour door, and then I saw the old lady whom
I had observed through the window, seated in an arm-chair, with her
knitting in her hand. I looked at her very hard. "I am Willand, your
grandchild, Granny!" I exclaimed, springing across the room.

"Young man, you have made a strange mistake," said the old lady, in a
voice which sent a chill through my heart. "I never had a grandchild.
You take me for some one else."

"Beg pardon, marm," said I, trying to recover myself. "I took you for
my grandmother, Mrs Wetherholm, who once lived here. I have been at
sea for many years, and have never heard from her or my aunt. Can you
tell me where they are gone?"

"Sit down, young man, and let me think. I cannot answer all in a
hurry," said she, and I thought her tone was much pleasante