"I tell 'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am, and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. ” He paused, with his eyes studying her gravely. “Better,” said Ann Veronica, with an unreal alacrity. He was looking pale and ill. ’ ‘Are we to infer that he had a choice?’ enquired Gerald. .
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