eyes. I
couldn't tell my companions what I feared. At last I could refrain no
longer. "Oh Hollis! oh King! the boat has gone," I cried out, bursting
into tears. "Uncle Boz! dear Uncle Boz and Bambo!" sobbed more than one
of us.

"No fear, masters--no fear," exclaimed one of the fishermen. "The boat
is in long ago, and the lieutenant and those he has saved from a watery
grave are safe on shore, and on their way up to the house by this time."

How our hearts felt relieved, and if we didn't shout for joy, it was
because they were too full for that. Well, I must cut my story short.
Three more men came on shore safe; a fourth attempting to get along,
trusting to his own strength without the traveller, was washed off, and
in spite of a rush made into the water to save him, was carried back and
lost. The brave captain was the last man to leave the ship, and
scarcely had he reached the strand than a huge sea, like some great
monster, with a terrific roar struck the wreck, and literally dashed her
into a thousand fragments. I must not stop either to describe the
appearance of the beach strewn with fragments of wreck, with cargo and
baggage, or how the people from far and near collected to appropriate
what they could, eager to secure a large booty before the proper
authorities arrived to take possession of the property. Bambo, who
appeared to invite all those we had rescued up to the house, satisfied
us that Uncle Boz was safe. We hurried on with our companions, for we
were all wet through, and bitterly cold. The house was hot enough when
we got inside, for there were blazing fires in each room, Uncle Boz
presiding over one, Bambo over the other, with saucepans and spoons, and
a strong smell of port-wine negus pervading the atmosphere. In the
dining-room, into which Miss Deborah did not venture, were five or six
rolls of rugs, with rough human heads sticking out of them. In the
drawing-room, the dear lady's own domain, was a large basket, serving as
a cradle, in one corner, and two big chairs forming a bed in another;
one occupied by an infant, the other by a little creature with fair
face, and beautiful blue eyes, which would look up with bewildered gaze
to watch what was going forward. Aunt Deb was deeply busied in grating
nutmeg, squeezing lemons, and stirring up sugar.

"Oh, dear boys, run and change your clothes, or you'll all catch your
death of cold!" she exclaimed.

Up we went, but soon discovered that