It was September again, and the golden rod and fall asters, that had for seven seasons been Cora's delight, were once more in their yellow and purple glory. The day was sunny, and the rich autumnal glow spread itself over the walls of the old castle, the forest, the rocks, and the sea, and the island and its surroundings seemed to the little family to be more beautiful than ever.

Mrs. Carleton was engaged in decorating the green parlor with flowers and trailing plants, which Miss Vyvyan and Cora had gathered for that purpose. The two latter had gone down among the trees near the beach to get the last basketful of moss to complete the work of adornment.

"Quick, Trefethen, quick, hand me my gun; see those birds, what an immense flight of them," shouted a strong masculine voice within a few yards of the trees which concealed them from view, and which also prevented them from seeing from whom the voice came.

"Don't fire," cried Miss Vyvyan, instantly catching up Cora in her arms as she used to do in the child's baby days.

"Don't fire," she repeated, "there are people here who are coming out of the woods on that side," at the same time, forcing her way among the trees, in the direction from which the voice came; and taking the advantage of making an inspection without being seen herself.

Cora caught sight of two figures standing on the open ground between the forest and the sea.

She clasped Miss Vyvyan's neck more tightly and whispered softly, "Look, Anna, there are two papas."

Miss Vyvyan paused, and looking between the branches she saw a tall, finely grown gentleman in the full military uniform of a colonel of the British army. By his side stood a man of smaller stature who wore the blue coat of a sea captain of that period. As the sunlight fell upon the bright scarlet uniform, the gold laced hat, the gold epaulets and the handsome scabbard which contained the colonel's sword, the child gazed in great amazement, not unmixed with admiration.

As we have already said, Cora was born brave, and like her mother struggled to keep up a calm courage through any emergency; but the poor little heart trembled a little when she said,

"Anna, I think he is a very pretty papa, but why does he wear that sword? Louisita used to wear a sword," she added.

"We are safe, Cora; he will not hurt us. He wears the uniform of our king. He would help us if we wanted him to."

"Shall we go to him?" said the child.

"Yes; we must so that we can tell your mama what sort of persons are on the island."

A few more steps took them out of the wood. Miss Vyvyan put the child out of her arms and led her. The gentleman in uniform advanced to meet them, and raising his hat said,

"Pray pardon me if I caused you any alarm. I did not know that this island was inhabited, and I saw so much wild fowl that the temptation to shoot was very strong."

"I can quite understand that," replied Miss Vyvyan. "We need no apology," she added, "as we were aware that most gentlemen enjoy sport, and your bearing and the uniform that you wear assure us that there is no cause for alarm."

The officer bowed low, but made no reply.

Cora, who was still holding Miss Vyvyan's hand, looked up at her and said again, "What a pretty papa, and more papas coming from the ship; but I like this one best."

The child's excitement was so great that her whisper was very audible to the officer.

"What does she mean?" he asked.

"That is her own way of expressing herself," Miss Vyvyan answered. "She calls all pictures of men papas. We think she has some recollection of her father, although she was little else than a babe when he was drowned here, which is seven years ago to-day. She appears in some mysterious way to realize that there was such a relationship, for she delights in looking at pictures of papas as she calls them, more especially such as are represented as wearing military uniform. And when she was very young I have often seen her press her cheek against that of a small statuette which we have of a soldier and kiss it and call it papa."

While Miss Vyvyan and the officer were still speaking Cora was examining the handsome uniform, and the gentleman was looking intently at the gold chain that the child wore round her throat. After a little conversation the officer addressing Miss Vyvyan said,

"I hope you will not think me too inquisitive if I ask whether this fair sea flower has a mother living."

"Oh yes," cried the child before Miss Vyvyan had time to reply, "I have the dearest mama in the world and we do love her so, don't we Anna?"

Cora in her enthusiasm let go Miss Vyvyan's hand, and taking hold of the officer's,

"Come," she said, "come with us and see her, and then you will love her, too."

Miss Vyvyan was about to suggest that probably the strange gentleman would prefer not to accept Cora's invitation until he had received one from her mother, when he interposed by asking Cora what her mother's name was.

"Why, it is mama," she replied.

"Yes, fair one; but she has another name."

"Oh, you mean Ada, that is what Anna calls her."

"She is Mrs. Carleton," said Miss Vyvyan.

"Great Heaven! my prayer is answered," exclaimed the officer. Turning quickly away for a few paces he covered his face with his hands, and his stalwart frame trembled with emotion.

"What is the matter," said Cora, "are you unhappy; never mind, do not be sorry, papa."

"Yes, my beloved child, I am indeed your own papa who has come back to you and mama; take me to her; I must go to her this moment, show me the nearest way."

Cora again clasped her hand round one of his fingers and as she lead him along she said, "Mama will be so happy for she thought you could never come back to us, and she often told me that if we were good we should go to you some day; poorest mama, big tears come into her eyes when she tells me about my papa."

Arriving at the end of the corridor leading to the green parlor Cora ran swiftly in advance of Miss Vyvyan and Colonel Carleton calling as she went,

"Mama, mama, we have found a real papa, not a picture, but my own papa."

Then came the meeting of the long-parted hearts and the recounting of events, which had taken place since the day on which destiny had torn the husband and wife from each other. Cora full of fresh young life joined in the conversation every instant, telling her father how they used to get the eggs of the sea birds and the honey from the wild bees' nest, and how they caught the sea perch from off the rocks, and how she found a jar of gold coins near the Vikings' tomb, which her mama said were pesos, and all about the fibula which she found there, also.

Then Colonel Carleton explained how he tried to rescue his wife and child, just as Ralph had told them a few days after they were wrecked; and how he was picked up by a young man from Wales who came out in the English ship, and was lashed to a floating mast by that brave young fellow, and by him kept from drowning until they fell in with a slave ship that was bound for the coast of Africa, but was also out of its course as well as their own unfortunate vessels; and how they were taken on board and kept toiling under an African sun for nearly seven years, when good fortune smiled upon them and they were sold as slaves and sent to the colony of Virginia.

"The same young Welshman," continued Colonel Carleton, "has always been with me. He has a very remarkable talent for navigation, and is now the captain of my ship. If he had not been I do not think I should ever have been able to find you, for I did not know that it was an island upon which we were shipwrecked; but he did, and under Providence, I have everything to thank him for."

"Beg pardon," said a voice at this part of Colonel Carleton's narrative, and turning their eyes in the direction of the door they saw standing there the muscular, well-knit figure, the pleasant face and bright eyes of Captain Trefethen.

"Beg pardon," he repeated, "but I heard what the Colonel said about me, and I want to say, that if he had not cut off the leather belt he wore and let all his gold fall into the ocean, that I might have the leather to chew when I was famishing with hunger on the mast, I must have died; and I feel that under Providence I have everything to thank him for. I made up my mind then never to leave the Colonel till I saw him moored in a safe harbor. In a few days," Captain Trefethen continued, "everything will be ready for the good ship 'Ada' to sail for Virginia, and as I do not suppose the Colonel will want to take another voyage of discovery, I will leave you all there, as I intended to come back to these parts myself and settle on an island about forty miles down this bay. It has a queer Indian name, 'Monhegan' they call it. Captain John Smith, who is now ranging this coast, told me about it. He seems to have a fancy for Indian names. I shall never forget how he sung the praises of an Indian girl the night before he set out on his present voyage. 'Pocahontas,' he called her. Here is some fruit and a few little things for the ladies," he continued, placing a box upon one of the tables and leaving the room.

When Colonel Carleton was again left with his wife and child and Miss Vyvyan, he resumed his conversation, and answered all the anxious and rapid inquiries of Mrs. Carleton. "Yes," he said, "I assure you again that I left all the family in Virginia perfectly well. Your father attended to my estates during my absence, and by his wisdom in managing them, he has increased their value sevenfold. Your sister Julia was married two years ago, and she has an excellent husband."

"Excellent husband," echoed Cora, "What kind of thing is that? Mama and Anna never told me about the excellent. Where do you find it, is it a bird; can it sing; may I have one?"

Cora was about to propound further questions regarding an excellent husband when the merry peals of laughter from the two ladies and the Colonel, put an end to her interrogations. She did not understand why they all laughed, and like many of her elders under similar circumstances she felt sensitive on that account; but with her usual quickness of thought, she said, "I know why you are so merry, papa; it is because you are so glad to be with us all in this parlor, that mama has made so pretty with these bouquets and wreaths of flowers. Mama makes all our rooms pretty; you ought to see them when the days are dark and foggy, so that we cannot see anything outside; then mama gets so many branches of the fragrant fir and green moss and red berries, and makes the most beautiful things."

"Why does mama select the foggy days to adorn the rooms most, my darling?" said the Colonel.

"Why, don't you know? she does it to make Anna and me happy. Sunshine within, mama calls it, and Anna made a song about that; shall I sing it to you?"

Without waiting for a reply, the child sung the song all through, keeping time on her father's arm, which encircled her as she sat on his knee.

When the refrain "our sunshine is within" ended, Colonel Carleton bent down and pressed his lips upon the golden head of his little daughter.

There was a mist before his eyes as he said, "Yes, my darling, our sunshine is within our own hearts, and it is in mine to-day for which I thank God."

Cora continued talking, telling her father all about the beautiful flowers on the island, and the picnics on the sea beach and in the woods.

"And one day, papa," said she, "we went for a long walk to the north end of this island, mama said it was, and we saw such a pretty little island all covered with trees, and the eagles were up on the tall pines. It was so close to our island that we could almost jump on to it, and mama said I could think of a name for it, so I named it "Fairy island." I think our island that we live on is very pretty, too, but I am glad we are going to Virginia to live near grandpa and grandma and Aunt Julia and my uncles, and I want to see grandpa's dog Franco. Do you know, papa, I never saw a dog. And Anna must come, too, and live with us."

"Of course she will," said Colonel and Mrs. Carleton, both speaking at the same time; "and perhaps," added Cora, "when it is summer, we will go to England and visit Anna in her old home at the manor house."

"That is right, Cora," said Miss Vyvyan; "the way in which you have arranged for the happiness of all of us is admirable."

"Yes," said Colonel Carleton, "Cora has made a very pleasant sounding plan, but I am not as sure as my little daughter appears to be, that we shall be able to carry out the whole of it, for when we land in Virginia, Miss Vyvyan, your cousin, Ronald Fairfax, may have something to say in the matter. From what Ada has already told me, you seem to have felt great interest in poor Ralph, and he and Ronald so much resembled each other in all respects that it was almost impossible to distinguish them. Pardon me, if I say that I sincerely hope you may take an interest in Ronald; besides the affection that existed between these two brothers was so profound that Ronald will desire to show his gratitude to you for your kind care of one so dear to him. How is he to do it? I only see one way."

The next few days passed by very quickly, as every one was busily engaged in making their preparations for the voyage. Full of autumn beauty, the last day arrived, and the boat with its crew waited on the beach for the family from the castle.

"Oh dear," said Cora, who was standing in the green parlor all ready to start, with her arms full of her favorite golden rod and fall asters, "how could I forget to pick up some of those shells which I like so much; I wanted to take some to give to all of them at home, I am so sorry."

"There will still be time enough to get some before we embark, Cora; you shall have some, dear," said Miss Vyvyan.

"Why Anna," said Mrs. Carleton, "you are surely not going down to the breakers to-day; I fear you will wear your life out for Cora's sake."

"Never mind me, Ada," replied Miss Vyvyan. "If I die in a labor of love it will be the death I most desire."

So saying she took a little basket and left the room. As she passed through the door Cora threw her a kiss and said, "Anna be back."

As we have said previously, the ladies liked Cora to keep some of her baby language, and that was one of her own modes of expression which they never corrected. It reminded them of her infancy and of their own mutual attachment, which first met in the love they each of them bore toward the child.

"Are you all ready?" said Colonel Carleton, as he came along the corridor to the green parlor. "Where is Miss Vyvyan?" he added, on entering the room.

"She has gone down to the breakers to get some shells that Cora wishes to take to Virginia," replied Mrs. Carleton.

"We will all join her there," said the Colonel, "and then we can walk back along the shore to our boat."

On arriving at the long ledge of rocks that ran straight out into the ocean, and which they called the "Whale's Back," they entered the little cove that was situated on the side nearest to the castle. There was Miss Vyvyan's basket half filled with the shells that Cora so much desired; but where was she?

In another moment, Cora with her quick step was springing up to the highest part of the rocks. A shriek of anguish from the child, and the cry in her former baby language, "Anna be back, Anna be back," brought her parents instantly to her side. Looking from the high wall that nature had formed, and across the larger cove on the other side, they saw far out toward the open sea Miss Vyvyan's upturned face. She was floating on an enormous wave which was bearing her rapidly toward the shore.

"Oh Anna, poor Anna; save her Dudley," cried Mrs. Carleton, believing anything possible to the brave and kind-hearted man, who had dared and surmounted all obstacles for her own sake.

"Yes, dearest; yes, trust me. I will do my utmost," replied the Colonel, quickly scaling the outer side of the cliff, and dashing over and among the broken masses of rock that laid between him and the sea. Throwing off his hat and heavy uniform coat, he stood with extended arms at the water's edge, exactly at the spot where he knew the wave would strike. Miss Vyvyan was being swiftly borne toward him and was within a few feet distance.

"Keep calm," he called to her, "for heaven's sake, keep calm, and I can save you."

The great wave bearing its living burden, broke upon the beach with unusual violence. Colonel Carleton was struck and thrown far up toward the shore by its mighty force. In another instant, he was on his feet again, rushing forward after the receding water, which was carrying Miss Vyvyan out. She still floated on the crest of the wave. Raising one hand and unclasping it, she threw upon the beach a small white shell, saying as she did so, "for dear Cora." She saw the friendly outstretched arm of the brave man; she looked up to the rocks; she saw the pure, classic features of gentle, loving Ada, paralyzed with distress, white as marble, pallid and death-like, as on the day that she had kissed them back to life seven years before. She saw the beautiful child, who was so precious to her; she noted the terror, pain and love in its fair, young face. She heard the sweet voice calling "Anna be back." She saw no more, the waters covered her; the same ocean which had brought her to the island, claimed her for its own and bore her away forever.

Many summers and winters have come and gone, and long years have passed away since the ladies and their dear little one lived on the island. The flowers have faded and the trees of the forest have died with time, but neither time nor death has power to kill the love of a true heart; that lives on forever and ever and, ph[oe]nix-like, exists on its own ashes. So it is that the solitary student wandering in the twilight along the shore, and the young lovers, who are whispering the old, yet always sweet story in the little cove close by, hear ever and anon, coming up from the sea, the echo of Anna Vyvyan's last words, "For dear Cora."