the climax reached at last.

as the calm weather continued in the afternoon, joe davidson tried to persuade captain bream to pay the evening star a visit, but the latter felt that the excitement and exertion of preaching to such earnest and thirsting men had been more severe than he had expected. he therefore excused himself, saying that he would lie down in his bunk for a short time, so as to be ready for the evening service.

it was arranged that the skipper of the mission smack should conduct that service, and he was to call the captain when they were ready to begin. when the time came, however, it was found that the exhausted invalid was so sound asleep that they did not like to disturb him.

but although captain bream was a heavy sleeper and addicted to sonorous snoring, there were some things in nature through which even he could not slumber; and one of these things proved to be a hymn as sung by the fishermen of the north sea!

when, therefore, the lifeboat hymn burst forth in tones that no cathedral organ ever equalled, and shook the timbers of the mission-ship from stem to stern, the captain turned round, yawned, and opened his eyes wide, and when the singers came to—

“leave the poor old stranded wreck, and pull for the shore,”

he leaped out of his bunk with tremendous energy.

pulling his garments into order, running his fingers through his hair, and trying to look as if he had not been asleep, he slipped quietly into the hold and sat down on a box behind the speaker, where he could see the earnest faces of the rugged congregation brought into strong relief by the light that streamed down the open hatchway.

what the preacher said, or what his subject was, captain bream never knew, for, before he could bring his mind to bear on it, his eyes fell on an object which seemed to stop the very pulsations of his heart, while his face grew pale. fortunately he was himself in the deep shadow of the deck, and could not be easily observed.

yet the object which created such a powerful sensation in the captain’s breast was not in itself calculated to cause amazement or alarm, for it was nothing more than a pretty-faced, curly-haired fisher-boy, who, with lips parted and his bright eyes gazing intently, was listening to the preacher with all his powers. need we say that it was our friend billy bright, and that in his fair face captain bream thought, or rather felt, that he recognised the features of his long-lost sister?

with a strong effort the captain restrained his feelings and tried to listen, but in vain. not only were his eyes riveted on the young face before him, but his whole being seemed to be absorbed by it. the necessity of keeping still, however, gave him time to make up his mind as to how he should act, so that when the service was brought to a close, he appeared on deck without a trace of his late excitement visible.

“what lad is this?” he asked, going up to joe, who was standing close to billy.

“this,” said joe, laying his hand kindly on the boy’s shoulder, “is billy bright, son of the late owner of the old evenin’ star.”

“what!” exclaimed the captain, unable to repress his surprise, “son of the widow who owns the new evening star? then that proves that your mother must be alive?”

“in course she is!” returned billy, with a look of astonishment.

“come down to the cabin with me, billy,” said the captain, with increasing excitement. “i want to have a chat with you about your mother.”

our little hero, although surprised, at once complied with the invitation, taking the opportunity, however, to wink at zulu in passing, and whisper his belief that the old gen’l’man was mad.

setting billy on a locker in front of him, captain bream began at once.

“is your mother alive, billy,—tut, of course she’s alive; i mean, is she well—in good health?”

billy became still more convinced that captain bream was mad, but answered that his mother was well, and that she had never been ill in her life to the best of his knowledge.

while speaking, billy glanced round the cabin in some anxiety as to how he should escape if the madman should proceed to violence. he made up his mind that if the worst should come to the worst, he would dive under the table, get between the old gentleman’s legs, trip him up, and bolt up the companion before he could regain his feet. relieved by the feeling that his mind was made up, he waited for more.

“billy,” resumed the captain, after a long gaze at the boy’s features, “is your mother like you?”

“i should think not,” replied billy with some indignation. “she’s a woman, you know, an’ i’m a—a—man.”

“yes—of course,” murmured the captain to himself, “there can be no doubt about it—none whatever—every gesture—every look!”

then aloud: “what was her name, my boy?”

“her name, sir? why, her name’s bright, of course.”

“yes, yes, but i mean her maiden name.”

billy was puzzled. “if you mean the name my father used to call ’er,” he said, “it was nell.”

“ah! that’s it—nearly, at least. nellie she used to be known by. yes, yes, but that’s not what i want to know. can you tell me what her name was before she was married?”

“well now, that is odd,” answered billy, “i’ve bin pumped somethink in this way before, though nuffin’ good came of it as i knows on. no, i don’t know what she was called afore she was married.”

“did you ever hear of the name of bream?” asked the captain anxiously.

“oh yes, i’ve heerd o’ that name,” said the boy, promptly. “there’s a fish called bream, you know.”

it soon became evident to poor captain bream that nothing of importance was to be learned from billy, he therefore made up his mind at once as to how he should act. feeling that, with such a possibility unsettled, he would be utterly unfit for his duties with the fleet, he resolved to go straight to yarmouth.

“what is your mother’s address?” he asked.

billy gave it him.

“now my boy, i happen to be much interested in your mother, so i’m goin’ to yarmouth on purpose to see her.”

“it’s wery good o’ you, sir, an’ if you takes your turn ashore afore we do, just give mother my respec’s an’ say i’m all alive and kickin’.”

“i will, my boy,” said the captain, patting billy on the head and actually stooping to kiss his forehead affectionately, after which he gave him leave to return on deck.

“i don’ know how it is,” said billy to zulu afterwards, “but i’ve took a likin’ for that old man, an’ at the same time a queer sort o’ fear of ’im; i can’t git it out o’ my noddle that he’s goin’ to yarmouth to inweigle my mother to marry him!”

zulu showed all his teeth and gums, shut his eyes, gave way to a burst of laughter, and said, “nonsense!”

“it may be nonsense,” retorted billy, “but if i thought he really meant it, i would run my head butt into his breadbasket, an’ drive ’im overboard.”

explaining to the surprised and rather disappointed skipper of the mission vessel that an unexpected turn of affairs required his immediate presence in yarmouth, the captain asked what means there were of getting to land.

“one of our fleet, the rainbow, starts to-morrow morning, sir,” was the reply; “so you can go without loss of time. but i hope we shall see you again.”

“oh yes, please god, i shall come off again—you may depend on that, for i’ve taken a great fancy to the men of the short blue, although i’ve been so short a time with them—moreover, i owe service as well as gratitude to the mission for sending me here.”

accordingly next morning he set sail with a fair wind, and in due course found himself on shore. he went straight to the old abode of mrs dotropy, and, to his great satisfaction, found ruth there. he also found young dalton, which was not quite so much to his satisfaction, but ruth soon put his mind at rest by saying—

“oh! captain bream, i’m so glad to have this unexpected visit, because, for months and months past i have wanted you to go with me to visit a particular place in yarmouth, and you have always slipped through my fingers; but i’m determined that you shan’t escape again.”

“that’s odd, my dear,” returned the captain, “because my object in coming here is to take you to a certain place in yarmouth, and, although i have not had the opportunity of letting you slip through my fingers, i’ve no doubt you’d do so if you were tempted away by a bait that begins with a d.”

“how dare you, sir!” said ruth, blushing, laughing, and frowning all at once—“but no. even d will fail in this instance—for my business is urgent.”

“well, miss ruth, my business is urgent also. the question therefore remains, which piece of business is to be gone about first.”

“how can you be so ungallant? are not a lady’s wishes to be considered before those of a gentleman? come, sir, are you ready to go? i am quite ready, and fortunately d, to whom you dared to refer just now, has gone to the post with a letter.”

although extremely anxious to have his mind set at rest, captain bream gave in with his accustomed good-nature, and went out with ruth to settle her business first.

rejoiced to have her little schemes at last so nearly brought to an issue, the eager girl hurried through the town till she came to one of its narrow rows.

“well, my dear,” said the captain, “it is at all events a piece of good luck that so far you have led me in the very direction i desired to lead you.”

“indeed? well, that is odd. but after all,” returned ruth with a sudden feeling of depression, “it may turn out to be a wild-goose chase.”

“what may turn out to be a wild-goose chase?”

“this—this fancy—this hope of mine, but you shall know directly—come.”

ruth was almost running by this time, and the captain, being still far from strong, found it difficult to keep up with her.

“this way, down here,” she cried, turning a corner.

“what, this way?” exclaimed the captain in amazement.

“yes, why not?” said ruth, reflecting some of his surprise as she looked up in his face.

“why—why, because this is the very row i wanted to bring you to!”

“that is strange—but—but never mind just now; you’ll explain afterwards. come along.”

poor ruth was too much excited to attend to any other business but that on which her heart was set just then; and fear lest her latest castle should prove to have no foundations and should fall like so many others in ruins at her feet, caused her to tremble.

“here is the door,” she said at last, coming to a sudden halt before widow bright’s dwelling, and pressing both hands on her palpitating heart to keep it still.

“wonders will never cease!” exclaimed the captain. “this is the very door to which i intended to bring you.”

ruth turned her large blue eyes on her friend with a look that made them larger and, if possible, bluer than ever. she suddenly began to feel as deep an interest in the captain’s business as in her own.

“this door?” she said, pointing to it emphatically.

“yes, that door. widow bright lives there, don’t she?”

“yes—oh! yes,” said ruth, squeezing her heart tighter.

“well, i’ve come here to search for a long-lost sister.”

“oh!” gasped ruth.

but she got no time to gasp anything more, for the impatient captain had pushed the door open without knocking, and stood in the middle of the widow’s kitchen.

mrs bright was up to the elbows in soap-suds at the moment, busy with some of the absent billy’s garments. beside her sat mrs joe davidson, endeavouring to remove, with butter, a quantity of tar with which the “blessed babby” had recently besmeared herself.

they all looked up at the visitors, but all remained speechless, as if suddenly paralysed, for the expression on our big captain’s face was wonderful, as well as indescribable. mrs bright opened her eyes to their widest, also her mouth, and dropped the billy-garments. mrs davidson’s buttery hands became motionless; so did the “babby’s” tarry visage. for three seconds this lasted. then the captain said, in the deepest bass notes he ever reached—

“sister nellie!”

a wild scream from mrs bright was the reply, as she sprang at captain bream, seized him in her arms, and covered the back of his neck with soap-suds.

the castle was destined to stand, after all! ruth’s joy overflowed. she glanced hurriedly round for some object on which to expend it. there was nothing but the “blessed babby”—and that was covered with tar; but genuine feeling does not stick at trifles. ruth caught up the filthy little creature, pressed it to her bounding heart, wept and laughed, and covered it with passionate kisses to such an extent that her own fair face became thoroughly besmeared, and it cost mrs joe an additional half hour’s labour to get her clean, besides an enormous expenditure of butter—though that was selling at the time at the high figure of 1 shilling 6 pence a pound!