around!" And his subsequent orders to "Man the cat!" "Man the fish!" and "Pipe down!" were all more or less tinged with gall.

The captain, in the mean time, had been on the poop watching the process of getting the ship under way, and had been an observer, of course, of all that had taken place, he being very much interested by the spectacle of a dead man standing at the mast. So when they had "piped down" he came forward on the quarter-deck until he arrived abreast of the engine-room hatch, where he stopped and feigned indifference to his surroundings. The executive being very familiar with the "old man's” peculiarities, at once hastened down from the bridge, and going to him, explained that Patrick Foley, who had been reported dead, was alive again, and that he suspected him of having practiced some base deception. Accordingly they went to the mast, where they confronted the offender, and proceeded to investigate the affair, which was rapidly cleared up by a few words. "Yes, yes; "Yes, yes; I see, I see," said the captain, rubbing his beard, as was his wont, and looking hard at the culprit. "Ten days in the brig; double irons;" and the captain, with a keen appreciation of the humorous side of the affair, withdrew, while the executive officer went down the wardroom ladder fairly purple with rage to think that his robber had received so trivial a punishment.

One more chapter and our tale will have been told. It is morning, and the "Oregon" lies at anchor in the harbor of one of those wonderful islands that gem the Southern Ocean. The harbor is simply a long pond or lagoon, protected from the open sea outside by a coral reef several miles in extent, upon which the long swell of the Pacific is continually breaking into high uplifted lines of white spray, which fall over into the quiet harbor inside, with great heavy crashes that are reechoed from the lofty wooded hills beyond the shore. The tide, which had been flooding during the latter part of the night, has now turned ebb, and is running swiftly past the ship, out through the narrow gap in the reef, which is the only entrance to the harbor from the sea.

A few minutes before eight o'clock the executive officer takes the bridge, and immediately after the shrill cry of the boatswain's pipe is heard, followed by the loud call, "All hands cross t'gallant and royal yards!" The men go to their stations, all the necessary gear is manned, and everything is in readiness for the evolution. When the cabin orderly, who had been sent in to report eight o'clock to the captain, appears on deck and transmits the order, "Make it so, sir," the executive gives the word of command, the yards swing across in their places, the band strikes up "The Star-Spangled Banner," the quartermaster hoists the American ensign, and the duty-boats of the day drop from their davits into the water. As the men begin scampering down from aloft, one of them, a young apprentice, misses his footing and falls from the fore-topmast cross-trees, striking on the rim of the top and again on the starboard anchor, from which he falls into the rapid tide below.

A score of men spring at once to the hammock-nettings to jump after him, but they all hesitate, for the tide is sweeping rapidly towards the cruel reef and the great breakers beyond, and the water is known to be full of sharks. One man only jumps, and, being a good swimmer, he soon reaches the floating body, with which he drifts outward on the tide. "Away, whale-boat," echoes through the now silent ship, and that boat is quickly leaping over the water towards the gap in the reef. She reaches it just in time to see the swimmer, still holding the lifeless body of the boy, swept through and then caught in the great breakers to be dashed again and again against the sharp, cutting face of the reef until both bodies are beaten out of all human resemblance. Being helpless to aid, the boat then pulled back to the ship against the tide.

"Who was that man who jumped overboard?" shouted the executive officer from the bridge to the boatswain on the forecastle.

"Foley, sir; foretopman."

And in due course of time the Navy Department is officially informed, for the second time, of the death of Patrick Foley, landsman.

F. M. BENNETT,

Assist. Engineer U. S. Navy.

"EMILY, what are you going to do with that Mr. Norvell?"

"Going to do with him? I am going to have nothing to do with him after to-morrow. He sails for Oregon at eleven o'clock,—at least that is what he tells me in this highly impassioned note I have just received."

"For goodness' sake, Emily, stop repeating my words like a parrot; you exasperate me," cried Mrs. Hawkins, who, however much she might resemble her sister in person, was in direct contrast to her by reason of her vivacity, and was always, as she expressed it, in a state of exasperation at Emily's extreme apathy of manner.

The sisters were enjoying, or rather Mrs. Hawkins was endeavoring to enjoy, a confidential talk in one of the tiny rooms looking seaward, usually provided for guests and mosquitoes at summer resorts. Emily, ethereal as usual, was perched on the bed, calmly brushing her golden locks; and Mrs. Hawkins, impatiently pacing up and down, was trying that most hopeless of tasks,-to force confidence.

"Now, Emily," assuming the elder-sisterly, chaperon tone, "of course I feared something of this kind when I brought you here, but I did hope your last bitter experience might have taught you to be careful; and I thought, being thrown with other girls, you might grow more like them,-become more companionable and less peculiar in your tastes."

"Oh, dear! I am not peculiar. I wish you would stop harping on that theme. I go my own way. I don't seek to molest any one, and if, out of twenty or thirty men, one happens to take a fancy to me and

I enjoy his society, I don't see why you should upbraid me, and—and actually ask me my intentions. It would be more sisterly to ask him his."

Miss Grey was aroused in words, at least, but her voice was as soft and her manner as calm as if the merest pleasantries occupied her thoughts.

"His intentions are evident enough; and, oh! Emily, I entreat you beware. He reminds me so much of that other," sinking her voice to a whisper; "and you are leading him on in just the same way. Have a care lest the same tragedy be repeated."

"From all reports it would be a just retribution. He has slain his tens of thousands," answered Miss Grey, flippantly, but a shudder passed over her slight frame.

"And you could live and see another man shoot himself in your presence?" cried Mrs. Hawkins, out of patience with the impassive creature. "Emily Grey, that story has never reached here: I have taken care of that; but I will tell Mr. Norvell and warn him, unless you promise me not to lead him further, or to engage yourself to him and keep the engagement."

"Ah! you make me think of such horrid things. That other man was crazy. You know every one said it was not my fault, and"with an almost embarrassed laugh,-" Mr. Norvell is not half as fond of me as you imagine. I make no impression on him; and, Alice, I won't stand that, he shall fear me or love me," with more energy than Miss Grey's acquaintances could have believed possible.

"Take care that he does not make you fear him. But, oh! child," cried Mrs. Hawkins, in genuine admiration, for Emily was now fully arrayed in evening attire, "you are beautiful enough to cause any madness. Why won't you use your beauty for the happiness of others and yourself?"

"I am happy," selfishly answered Miss Grey; "only you bring up such ghostly things I am positively shivering. Why did you speak to me of that man? I had forgotten him, and you have brought back the whole ghastly sight to me."

"My dear! I only wanted to warn you.'

"And a moment ago you wanted to warn Mr. Norvell. Well, I am going to him now. Shall I send him to you, or shall I tell him. the story? I will. I believe I will!"

"Emily, if you dare!" cried her sister, alarmed at Emily's excited state, and dreading her dare-devil spirit when once aroused. "Forgive me, dear; I only meant to frighten you; and I wish you could like Mr. Norvell," she continued, soothingly.

"I'll tell him he has your consent, then," murmured Emily, "in case he should condescend to honor me with an offer." And with a little mocking laugh she glided away.

"How you look, Mr. Norvell!" was her greeting to Hervey, who had been hovering about the elevator for the past hour, and as each load of fair girls was deposited at the entrance to the ball-room, and still she was not among them, had been growing more and more haggard, until his handsome face was really wan and pitiful to behold.

"And how you look!" was his answer, the witchery of her presence coming over him and chasing away the shadows. "Ah! how strong and triumphant your beauty makes you; but you shall listen to me to-night. Do you know what you are going to do?"

"How odd you all are! Alice has been asking me that very question. Are you going to ask me my intentions?"

"No; but I am going to tell you mine."

Hervey's sufferings of the past month, his quarrel with Jack, his wretched infatuation, all combined to give him a certain determination and strength that many a stronger man might have longed for at such a time.

"And, pray, what are your intentions? There, I have saved Alice the trouble of that question.'

"To get a month's delay in my orders, marry you, and take you with me out to Oregon," he answered, all in one breath. Now Jack would know if his threat was all bombast.

Suppose you can't get a delay ?" was Miss Grey's only response, given in her coolest, most silvery tone.

"Of course I shall get a delay. I will give my reasons for asking. Emily," he pleaded, "don't-don't baffle me now as you have so often. We have passed a strange summer together,―a summer of moonlit nights, of glorious sunshine days, of song and poetry, of love and hope, no, not hope; you have never once given me hope; but now the time is come when you shall listen to me. See, all things are changed. There is no moon to-night. Hear that weird sighing among the pines: a storm is brewing. There, a string of your zither is broken,"-wantonly twisting a wire out of place,-" and I, whom you have charmed, and duped, and fooled, am no longer at your feet. I am the master to-night, and you shall give me the promise I require. For weal or woe our lives are cast together; and if your happiness is at an end, know that you have only entrapped yourself in the meshes you spread for me."

Excited, angry, filled with rage and knowledge of wrong-doing, Hervey had not once glanced at Miss Grey during this tirade. They were now some distance up the beach, and had come to a stand near a log-the mast of some wrecked vessel-deeply buried in the sand; and, as his last cruel words were uttered, he looked at her and for a moment, at least, a flood of genuine tenderness came over him, and, his mood changing, he wondered how he ever could have so spoken to a woman -and such a woman as this.