had
assisted to keep up so energetically, it is not surprising that the
first sight of him had a powerful effect on Mr Durant.

"Why, Stanney," he said at length, "you look as if you were some strange
sea-monster just broke loose from Neptune's menagerie!"

Perhaps this idea had been suggested by the rope round Stanley's waist,
the cut end of which still dangled at his side, for Mr Durant took hold
of it inquiringly.

"Ay, sir," put in the coxswain, who chanced to be near him, "that bit of
rope is a scarf of honour. He saved the life of a soldier's widow with
it."

There was a tendency to cheer on the part of the bystanders who heard
this.

"God bless you, Stanney, my boy! Come and get dressed," said the old
gentleman, suddenly seizing his friend's arm and pushing his way through
the crowd, "come along; oh, don't talk to me of the ship. I know that
it's lost; no matter--you are saved. And do _you_ come along with us
Wel--Wel--what's the name of --? Ah! Welton--come; my daughter is here
somewhere. I left her near the parapet. Never mind, she knows her way
home."

Katie certainly was there, and when, over the heads of the people--for
she had mounted with characteristic energy on the parapet, assisted by
Queeker and accompanied by Fanny Hennings--she beheld Stanley Hall in
such a plight, she felt a disposition to laugh and cry and faint all at
once. She resisted the tendency, however, although the expression of
her face and her rapid change of colour induced Queeker with anxious
haste to throw out his arms to catch her.

"Ha!" exclaimed Queeker, "_I knew it_!"

What Queeker knew he never explained. It may have had reference to
certain suspicions entertained in regard to the impression made by the
young student on Katie the night of their first meeting; we cannot tell,
but we know that he followed up the exclamation with the muttered
remark, "It was fortunate that I pulled up in time."

Herein Queeker exhibited the innate tendency of the human heart to
deceive itself. That furious little poetical fox-hunter had, by his own
confession, felt the pangs of a guilty conscience in turning, just
because he could not help it, from Katie to Fanny, yet here he was now
basely and coolly taking credit to himself for having "pulled up in
time!"

"Oh, look at the _dear_ little children!" exclaimed Fanny, pointing
towards a part of the crowd where several seamen were carrying the
rescued and still terrified little