gether about you, and upon my word it really seemed as if you were to her as a brother."
A faint smile came on Judith's face; she held out her hand and said:
"Yes, I have come to love your dear father, who has been to me so kind, and to Jamie also; he has been full of thought—I mean kindness. What has interested him has interested me. I call him uncle, so I will call you cousin. May it be so?"
He touched her hand; he did not dare to grasp the frail, slender white hand. But as he touched it, there boiled up in his heart a rage against Coppinger, that he—this man steeped in iniquity—should have obtained possession of a pearl set in ruddy gold—a pearl that he was, so thought Oliver, incapable of appreciating.
"How came you here?" asked Judith. "Your father has been expecting you some time, but not so soon."
"I am come off the wreck."
She started back and looked fixedly on him.
"What—you were wrecked?—in that ship last night?"
"Yes. After the fog lifted we were quite lost as to where we were, and ran aground."
"What led you astray?"
"Our own bewilderment and ignorance as to where we were."
"And you got ashore?"
"Yes. I was put across by the Preventive men. I spent half the night on Doom Bar."
"Were any lives lost?"
"Only those lost their lives who threw them away. Some tipsy sailors, who got at the spirits, and drank themselves drunk."
"And—did any others—I mean did any wreckers come to your ship?"
"Salvors? Yes; salvors came to save what could be saved. That is always so."
Judith drew a long breath of relief; but she could not forget Jamie and the ass.
"You were not led astray by false lights?"
"Any lights we might have seen were sure to lead us astray, as we did not in the least know where we were."
"Thank you," said Judith. Then she turned to Uncle Zachie.
"I have a favor to ask of you."
