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“In the paper ? Let me look. There was no second boat, mother."

· Not! Then what became of all the rest ? "

Atwell shivered—“Drowned, dead! Oh, don't talk of it. Four at least."

Poor fellows! Oh how thankful I am that you are safe. How was it? tell me.”

Atwell was silent for some time.

“Oh, while I think of it, is young Lamore safe? His name was among the list-is it the same who left here?”

Mother - don't ask me! He's drowned - drowned. Oh what a wretch I am!” He leant his arms on the table, and hid his face on them.

“ Dick, Dick ! what's the matter? What do you mean? You couldn't have helped him - no one could.”

“ Mother, you'll drive me mad! If you only knew what I have done! But, at the time at the time I didn't think of anything but getting on deck in time. I wasn't to blame - was I?

" What do you mean?”

“Mother, I murdered that boy !" cried Atwell, fiercely, looking up—“Ay-as if I had stabbed him! it was murder all the same! And I'm here, who ought to be thirty fathom deep- and he's in his all through me.

“You don't mean that you threw him overboard !"

“ No -- not that. Mother-I injured that boy shamefully ---- and when he might have left me to drown, he saved me—and was drowned himself. May heaven forgive me!" He covered his face, and was silent for a long while. At last Mrs. Atwell spoke.

“ Dick — dear fellow, don't take on so." He looked up

“ Ay, but the worst's to come -I shall have to tell his mother. O, to bring myself to this ! I'm rightly served ! ”

I'll go and tell her, lad.”

“No, no, no one but I. I've got a lesson that I shan't soon forget. Well, let that go, mother, I shall have to give up America and go to Liverpool."

"Why to Liverpool ?" " I've lost everything - I must do something - and

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can get some place in Liverpool. I didn't think I should ever come to this ! But for you, mother, I wish I lay at the sea bottom."

“ Dear lad, don't talk like that.”

"O, I'm very miserable! O mother, dear, why did I ever want that paltry prize! What have I done now, through that!"

He refused all her efforts at consolation, and at last rose, and said he would go down to the Lamores. With wistful eyes she saw him depart, and watched the dark form through the snow-mist till it disappeared.

Mrs. Lamore sat by the fire in her old rocking-chair. Harry's letter on her lap; Nelly opposite; Dick and his father were gone out, and the baby was asleepwhen a shadow passed the window, and a knock was heard at the door.

“Come in,” said Mrs. Lamore; “ who can it be, Nelly ?”

A tall form entered, and closed the door. “Who is it?” she said, half startled.

The new comer took off his cap, and said, pushing back his dark curls with a trembling hand “It's Mr. Atwell, Mrs. Lamore. How are you to-night?

Mr. Atwell! I thought you were on the sea with Harry !"

Why did you think so ?”

Why ? Harry's letter! Sit down, sir, pray." Atwell sat down. “ The letter only came to-day, and _"

To-day! What's the date of it?”

He almost snatched it away—but one glance defeated bis hopes.

“But, you've seen him lately, sir — How was he? Well and happy? Was his captain satisfied ? Didn't he send any messages ? What were they ?"

“I trust that he is well and very happy, Mrs. Lamore," Atwell replied, steadying his voice.

" I believe his captain had every reason to be satisfied.” · Let me see

-- where is he now? When was it you saw him last, sir ?”

Twice Atwell essayed to speak, and twice his voice

failed him. At last, in a low tone, he said, “I saw him last in

my

cabin." Mrs. Lamore caught the constrained manner. “Something has happened! I'm sure of it. O Mr. Atwell, tell me what is it? Where is he?" "Send the girl away," he said, hoarsely.

Go, Nelly, go. I can't bear this where is he, sir

“Mrs. Lamore, your boy was a good, noble fellow. He did his duty manfully — and will surely find a reward! We met heavy gales - and

And what, sir ?"

“ The ship couldn't bear them - and - she went down at last!”

“ Went down! Sank! O Harry! But he was saved, I know he was. Such a good lad he always was to me.”

- Mrs. Lamore. - bear it bravely — your boy was — drowned!”

Drowned ! But you saw him in your cabin - how, where? O Harry, Harry! O, my dear lad - what shall I do!” She flung herself into the chair, and wrung her hands.

“ You don't mean it — you can't ! He's safe, I know he isn't drowned ! O, my dear boy!" She would not hear a word.

Atwell sat, very pale and wretched, waiting till she a little recovered.

“ You — you murdered him," she cried. you who drove him to sea he'd never have gone but for you-he'd have been here with us all. It's all through you. I dare say you might have saved him—and let him be drowned for want of help! just like you !"

Don't, don't, Mrs. Lamore! I know it all - but I'd give all I have to see him here. Don't go on so, I can't bear it.” He tried in vain to comfort her; but at last she became a little more calm.

Atwell writhed under her reproaches.—his wounded pride only told how true they were. He despe. rately wished himself dead, and the drowned boy in his place--while the last reproachful words that the lad had spoken, rang over and over again in his ears. He roused himself fiercely broke in

Mrs. Lamore's grief, bade her listen how her gallant boy had met his death and plunged at once into the narration.

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Silent and very still she sat, hearing of shipwreck and disaster; of storm and deadly peril; of the launching of the boat; of that last meeting and parting; of the latest words of the loved of her heart; and when the tale ceased, was calm. “Mrs. Lamore,” said the narrator, in a low voice

you forgive me? May God pardon me, for I never can myself!”

*Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” The words of that morning came over her wounded soul like strange sweet music. The thought of him who was gone hung round her like a sad fond dream. She bowed her head, and murmured May God forgive you as I do." “I can never be to you what he was.

But all my life long I will protect and aid you, as far as in me lies. I have my own way to make in the world. Through your boy I am a changed man. Never, never to return to what I was! He has taught me to pardon and forget-to overcome evil with good.”

Thus he went away. Years afterwards, when he was prosperous and rich

when he stood high in the world, when men respected and admired him, the repentant still remembered his promise. Raising and aiding, guarding and guiding the family of the gallant lad who had saved him; the sweet remembrances of that dead boy were ever a silver chain to link together the pardoning and the pardoned.

M. W. B.

A FRAGMENT ABOUT DEATH. You say you cannot find any scriptural foundation for this belief you cleave to. I am not sure that there is any text that plainly asserts it, yet there are many that seem to me to imply it.

First—those words of our Lord, on which we largely build our hope of a future life, which ever seem full of exceeding great and precious promise, and through faith in which we see a beyond to the grave.

“He that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall be live ; and whosoever liveth and believeth on me shall never die.” How do we interpret them? How can they be understood ?

failed him. At last, in a low tone, he said, “I saw him last in my cabin.”

Mrs. Lamore caught the constrained manner.“Something has happened! I'm sure of it. O Mr. Atwell, tell me what is it? Where is he?” “Send the girl away," he said, hoarsely.

Go, Nelly, go. I can't bear this where is he, sir

“Mrs. Lamore, your boy was a good, noble fellow. He did his duty manfully – and will surely find a reward! We met heavy gales — and

“And what, sir ?”.

“ The ship couldn't bear them and she went down at last!”

“ Went down! Sank! O Harry! But he was saved, I know he was. Such a good lad he always was to me.

“ Mrs. Lamore bear it bravely — your boy was — drowned!"

“ Drowned! But you saw him in your cabin -how, where? O Harry, Harry! O, my dear lad — what shall I do!” She flung herself into the chair, and wrung her hands.

“ You don't mean it - you can't ! He's safe, I know he isn't drowned ! O, my dear boy!” She would not hear a word.

Atwell sat, very pale and wretched, waiting till she a little recovered.

You — you murdered him," she cried. you who drove him to sea — he'd never have gone but for you-he'd have been here with us all. It's all through you. I dare say you might have saved him—and let him be drowned for want of help! just like you

!Don't, don't, Mrs. Lamore! I know it all - but I'd give all I have to see him here. Don't go on so, I can't bear it." He tried in vain to comfort her; but at last she became a little more calm.

Atwell writhed under her reproaches.- his wounded pride only told how true they were. He despe. rately wished himself dead, and the drowned boy in his place-while the last reproachful words that the lad had spoken, rang over and over again in his ears. He roused himself fiercely – broke in upon Mrs. Lamore's griefbade her listen how her gallant boy had met his death. and plunged at once into the narration.

- It was

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