. Good-bye, Charlie, good-bye;
we will be close together till the end."

CHAPTER FORTY.

WHAT THE SEA GAVE UP.

The sands and yeasty surges mix
At midnight in a dreary bay;--
And on thy ribs the limpet sticks,
And o'er thy bones the scrawl shall play.

Tennyson.

Anxiety reigned at Saint Winifred's, succeeded by consternation and
intense grief. Little was thought of the absence of the three boys at
tea-time, but when it came to chapel-time and bed-time, and they had not
yet appeared, and when next morning it was found that they had not been
heard of during the night, everyone became seriously alarmed, and all
the neighbouring country was searched for intelligence.

The place on the cliff where Kenrick had descended was observed, but as
the traces showed that only _one_ boy had gone down there, the
discovery, so far from explaining matters, only rendered them more
inexplicable. Additional light was thrown on the subject by the
disappearance of Bryce's boat, and the worst fears seemed to be
confirmed by his information that it was a ricketty old concern, only
intended to paddle in smooth weather close to the shore. But what
earthly reason could have induced three boys to venture out in such a
tub on so wild a night? That they did it for pleasure was
inconceivable, the more so as rowing was strictly forbidden; and as no
other reason could be suggested, all conjecture was at fault.

The fishermen went out in their smacks, but found no traces, and gained
no tidings of the missing boys; and all through that weary and anxious
day the belief that they had been lost at sea gained ground. Almost all
day Power, and Eden, and Henderson, had been gazing out to sea, or
wandering on the shore, in the vain hope of seeing them come rowing
across the bay; but all the sailors on the shore affirmed that if they
_had_ gone out in an open boat, and particularly in Bryce's boat, it was
an utter impossibility that they could have outlived the tempest of the
preceding night.

At last, towards the evening, the sea gave up, not indeed her dead, but
what was accepted as a positive proof of their wretched fate.
Henderson, who was in a fever of excitement, which Power vainly strove
to allay, was walking with him and Eden, who was hardly less troubled,
along the beach, when he caught sight of something floating along,
rising and falling on the dumb sullen swell of the advancing tide. He
thought and declared at first,