Michael’s grief was renewed as he went in to see the friend who had acted the part of a father to him all his life; but happily deep grief does not endure long in young hearts, and he now looked forward to Mr Tremayne’s promised visit.
“I hope the young lady and her mother will come with him. O Nelly! she looked like an angel as she watched by me, when I scarcely knew whether I was alive or being knocked over and over in the breakers,” he observed. “For hours after I was safe on shore I had their sound in my ears in a way I never knew before.”
Mr Tremayne came to the cottage just as Dame Lanreath, with Michael and Nelly, had returned from attending the funeral of Paul Trefusis. It was a calm and lovely day, and contrasted greatly with the weather which had before prevailed.
In the harbour, just below the cottage, lay a boat somewhat smaller than the “Wild Duck,” but nearly new, with freshly-tanned sails, and well fitted in every respect. Mrs and Miss Tremayne were seated in it, with two men who had rowed it round from the Lizard.
Mr Tremayne invited the inmates of the cottage to come down and see it.
“What do you think of her?” he asked, after they had greeted the two ladies.
“She is a handy craft, sir, and just suited for this place,” answered Michael.
“I hope you will find her so,” replied Mr Tremayne. “Here is a paper which assigns her to you as her master, and if you will moor her fast her present crew will leave her, as we purpose to continue our journey by land, and have ordered the carriage to meet us at the top of the hill.”
Michael was unable to express his gratitude in words. Dame Lanreath spoke for him.
“May God reward you and your wife and children for your kindness to the orphans, and to an old woman who has well-nigh run her course on earth. We were cast down, though we know that His mercy endureth for ever, and you have lifted us up and shown us that He is faithful and never fails to send help in time of need.”