And the fact is she does not know till we tell her which is Jack and which is Jill.
“I’m Jack, mother;” “I’m Jill, mother,” we say.
Then we go all up home together.
Mattie was well, but away at school. She returned next day, however, and Jill and I were half afraid of her, so tall and beautiful had she become. But dear Mattie was self-possessed enough, though we semi-civilised sailors were shy.
This was a never-to-be-forgotten day. We had brought Mattie—we would always call her Mattie—a father and a sister. For this box was the box, and that is saying enough.
For many voyages after this, Jill and I sailed together in the same ships. And very often Ritchie and Lawlor were our shipmates.
We never saw nor heard anything more of Adriano. That was a little morsel of mystery never cleared up.
Castizo settled down in England, having bought property not far from the little churchyard where his dear wife is sleeping. He is there now, though he is getting old. With him live Peter and his wife Dulzura, as he still calls her, and it is ever a pleasure to meet them, and oftentimes, I scarcely need say, we talk of the dear old days on the Pampas and our life in the Land of the Giants.