"But now comes the wonderful part of the story, uncle. A dreadful storm arose, and a thick fog came on, and the ship in which the bridegroom sailed was so damaged that she had to put back for repairs. The young man found lodgings in the town, and what house do you think he came to? but the very one where the bride lived with her dear old uncle, and they made up their minds to tell him everything, and to throw themselves on his generosity. Dear uncle, what do you think of my story?"
"Dashed if Ay didn't begin to think it was me you meant by the old man. But child, child, you are not going to cheat that kind old uncle, and tell him a pack of lies, and laugh at him. You are not the bride?"
"Yes, uncle," said Valmai, with blushing face and drooping eyelids.
"And Mr. Gwyn is the bridegroom?"
"Yes. His name is Wynne, not Gwyn."
"And you knew nothing about it until he came here yesterday?"
"Nothing; but that he had sailed in the Burrawalla, and when I heard she had returned a wild hope came to me, and when I heard his voice in the passage I could have fainted with joy."
"And you are both united under may roof? and are man and wife?"
"Yes. Oh, uncle, don't be angry! It was not our own doing. It was Providence who sent him back to me from the storm and fog. Don't be angry."
"Angry, child!" said the old man, almost lifting himself up in his bed; "why Ay'm tarnished if anything so jolly ever happened in may laife before. And to think we have dodged the old father! and the old uncle! Why, that must be Essec!" and this discovery was followed by a burst of rumbling laughter, which set Valmai more at her ease.