iddle
figure-head, "your brother-in-law's name was Graham, you know."

"True, that's what puzzles me; the child's Christian name is Emma--the
same as that of my niece and sister--but she says her last name is
Wilson."

"Well, then, Wilson ain't Graham, you know, any more nor Gaff ain't
Snooks, d'ye see?"

"Yes, I see; but I'm puzzled, for I _do_ see a family likeness to my
sister in this child, and I _cannot_ get rid of the impression, although
I confess that it seems unreasonable. And the thought makes me very
anxious, because, if I were correct in my suspicion, that would prove
that my beloved sister and her husband are drowned."

Kenneth said this with strong feeling, and the seaman looked at him more
earnestly than he had yet done.

"Your father was hard on your sister and her husband, if I bean't
misinformed," said Gaff.

"He thought it his duty to be so," answered Kenneth.

"And you agreed with him?" pursued Gaff.

"No, never!" cried the other indignantly. "I regretted deeply the
course my father saw fit to pursue. I sympathised very strongly with my
dear sister and poor Tom Graham."

"Did you?" said Gaff.

"Most truly I did."

"Hum. You spoke of suspicions--wot was your suspicions?"

"To be candid with you, then," said Kenneth, "when I came to see you I
suspected that it was _you_ who left that child at our house, for I
heard of your sudden re-appearance in Cove, but I am convinced now that
I was wrong, for I know you would not tell me a falsehood, Gaff."

"No more I would, sir," said Gaff, drawing himself up, "and no more I
_did_; but let me tell to you, sir, nevertheless, that your suspicions
is c'rect. _I_ left Emmie Wilson at your house, and Emmie Wilson _is_
Emma Graham!"

Kenneth stopped and looked earnestly at his companion.

"My sister and brother?" he asked in a low suppressed voice.

"Dead, both of 'em," said Gaff.

With a mighty effort Kenneth restrained his feelings, and, after walking
in silence for some time, asked why Gaff had concealed this from his
family, and how it happened that the child did not know her proper name.

"You see, sir," replied the sailor, "I've know'd all along of your
father's ill-will to Mr Graham and his wife, for I went out with them
to Australia, and they tuk a fancy to me, d'ye see, an' so did I to
them, so we made it up that we'd jine company, pull in the same boat, so
to speak, though it _was_ on the land we was goin' and not the sea.
There's