"Ay, ay, sir," said Jack; "didn't you know that afore?"
"Charles—Charles!" cried Flora. He heard the voice. Her name escaped his lips, and rang with a pleasant echo through the house.
In another moment he was in the room, and had clasped her to his breast.
"My own—my beautiful—my true!"
"Charles, dear Charles!"
"Oh, Flora, what have I not endured since last we met; but this repays me—more than repays me for all."
"What is the past now," cried Flora—"what are all its miseries placed against this happy, happy moment?"
"D—me, nobody thinks of me," said the admiral.
"My dear uncle," said Charles, looking over Flora's shoulder, as he still held her in his arms, "is that you?"
"Yes, yes, swab, it is me, and you know it; but give us your five, you mutinous vagabond; and I tell you what, I'll do you the greatest favour I've had an opportunity of doing you some time—I'll leave you alone, you dog. Come along, Jack."