“That was the name, sir,” exclaimed Jack, “and if you are not the gentleman who brought the little boy aboard, you are just like him, though to be sure as a good many years have passed since then, that would make the difference.”
“I am the person you suppose, and the father of the little boy; and tell me, my friend, was he saved from the wreck? Is he still alive? What has become of him?”
“This is indeed wonderful,” exclaimed Harry, who had accompanied Mr Hastings. “I can answer your questions. Your son has long been my most intimate friend, and is now my captain. He commands the Thisbe, and I trust before many weeks are over that the earnest desire of his heart will be fulfilled, that he will have the happiness of meeting the father he has so long desired to find. When I discovered Jack Headland, the faithful guardian of his early days, I congratulated myself that the only existing clue, as I supposed, on which my friend could depend for tracing his parents had been found, though I little thought that it would be so rapidly followed up. I can assure you, sir, that you will have every reason to be proud of your son, for a more noble and gallant fellow does not exist; and that he is your son I have not the shadow of a doubt.”
Mr Hastings, begging Jack to follow, retired to his hut accompanied by Harry, that he might learn from the honest seaman fuller particulars of everything relating to the boy he had brought up.
Jack seemed to rejoice as much as he did, and to be fully convinced that he was right in his conjectures. Jack at length retired, leaving the two gentlemen alone.
“It is, indeed, wonderful, Mr Castleton, that you and my son should thus have been brought together, and I trust that whatever may occur, your friendship will continue as warm as ever.”
“There is little doubt about that, sir;” answered Harry, “especially as I hope we shall some day become nearly related, as my friend is engaged to marry my only sister, though my father objects to the match on grounds which I consider very insufficient—his ignorance of his parentage; but now I trust that will no longer be an impediment.”
“If my son is really attached to your sister, I have very little doubt when I plead his cause that your father will give his consent,” said Mr Hastings, in a tone which somewhat puzzled Harry. “It maybe a satisfaction for you to know that my family is in no way inferior to yours. More I need not say, as I have reasons for not entering into particulars.”
As may be supposed, Harry was now doubly anxious for the arrival of Headland, contemplating the joy and satisfaction the discovery of his father would give him, and he longed also to be able to write to Julia to tell her the news which would, he knew, tend so much to banish her anxieties for the future.
Still day after day went by, and no sail appeared to cheer the sight of the shipwrecked party.