t his arm round her waist.

"Don't," said Susan, struggling unsuccessfully to get free. "What d'ye
think Mrs Gaff has bin an' done?"

"Don't know, my jewel, no more nor a pig as has niver seen the light o'
day," said Dan.

"She's bin--and gone--and given--" said Susan, with great deliberation,
"one--hundred--gold sovereigns--to the Shipwrecked thingumbob Society!"

"How d'ye know that, darlint?" inquired Dan.

"Master told Miss Lizzie, Miss Lizzie told missis, and missis told me."

"You don't say so! Well, I wish I wor the Shipwrecked thing-me-bob
Society, I do," said Dan with a sigh; "but I an't, so I'll have to cut
my stick, clap spurs to my horse, as the story books say, for Capting
Bingley towld me to make haste. But there's wan thing, Susan, as I
wouldn't guv for twice the sum."

"An' what may that be?" asked Susan shyly.

"It's _that_," said Dan, imprinting a kiss on Susan's lips, to the
dismay of Bounder, who chanced to be in the back scullery and heard the
smack.

Cook rushed to the kitchen, but when she reached it Dan was gone, and a
few minutes later that worthy was cantering toward Seaside Villa,
muttering to himself:

"Tin thousand pound! It's a purty little bit o' cash. I only wish as a
brother o' mine, (if I had wan), would leave me half as much, an' I'd
buy a coach and six, an' put purty Susan inside and mount the box
meself, an' drive her to Africay or Noo Zealand, (not to mintion
Ottyheity and Kangaroo), by way of a marriage trip! Hey! Bucephalus,
be aisy now. It isn't Master Kenneth that's on yer back just now, so
mind what yer about, or it'll be wus for ye, old boy."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

THE OPEN BOAT ON THE PACIFIC--GAFF AND BILLY IN DREADFUL CIRCUMSTANCES--
A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA, AND A MADMAN'S DEATH.

While these events are taking place in the busy seaport of Wreckumoft,
let us return to the little boat which we left floating, a solitary
speck, upon the breast of the great Pacific Ocean.

As long as the whale-ship continued visible, the three occupants of the
boat sat immovable, gazing intently upon her in deep silence, as if each
felt that when she disappeared his last hold upon earth was gone.

Billy was the first to break silence.

"She's gone, father," he whispered.

Both men started, and looked round at the boy.

"Ay, she's gone," observed Gaff with a sigh; "and now we'll have to pull
for it, night an' day, as we are able."

He began slowly to get out one of