“Safe home, safe home in port,
Rent cordage, shattered deck;
Torn sails, provision short,
And only not a wreck;
But all the joy upon the shore,
To tell our voyage the perils o’er!”

Safe home! It might be said in another sense for Bernard, for he was naturally so strong and healthy that the effects of exposure and exhaustion were not long in passing off, the injury to the chest proved to be only temporary; and having cased him like a statue in plaster of Paris, the surgeons decided, to the joy of his family, that the more serious injuries would be better recovered from in the fresh air of Vale Leston, than in the fishy, muddy atmosphere of Ewmouth.

So he was transported thither, and installed in Felix’s study, among the familiar sights and sounds, and where another joy awaited him, and where he lay in happy stillness.

Phyllis had borne up bravely through the suspense, never relinquishing a strong assurance of hope; but when that hope was actually crowned by the first telegram, the reaction set in, and she had broken down so entirely that her mother durst not let her move at first, and indeed accompanied her and her little girl as far as the junction, being herself on the way to Larne.

And Geraldine’s heart was at peace when she saw Phyllis sitting by the bed, her hand in his, content to see and not to speak. Another visitor appeared the following day, namely, the Bishop of Albertstown, who had remained at Larne till he could see his fellow passengers in safe hands. Then he had crossed to Bristol, and before his hurried visit to his sisters he could not but come to see his beloved old pupil, Clement, and share with him those reminiscences of her, who, as he had only now learnt, had given her young superabundant life for him, a man growing into age, whose work might be nearly done.

He only saw Bernard in silence, but heard from Clement the account of those last moments, which showed how entirely Angela had been conscious of what she was doing, and how willingly she had devoted herself to save those whom she loved and valued.

While yet they talked, there was a fresh arrival. Sir Ferdinand Travis Underwood, who could not forbear the running down to hear perfectly all that was to be heard, and to make arrangements that might relieve Bernard’s mind, if he were indeed on the way of recovery.

In fact, almost the first thought after that of the wife and child had been the security of the drenched, stained, and soiled pocket-book; nor would the patient be satisfied till he had been allowed himself to hand it over to the head of his firm, with, “There, Fernan, safe, though smashed with me. Tell Brown.”

“Never mind Brown or anything else but getting well, Bernard. I have taken our passage for next week. I shall get things arranged so that you need not think of being wanted again out there. We will find a berth for you in the office in town, as soon as you are about again.”

Bernard’s eye lightened. “I hope—”

But Ferdinand would not let him either thank or hope, scarcely even allow any words from Phyllis, who could not be grateful enough for the relief. To Alda, who had received her old companion, since Marilda seemed unable to let her husband out of her sight; it was explained that she was going too, happen what would. Oh, yes, it was true she was a shocking bad sailor, but she was not going to have Fernan’s ships running upon rocks or getting on fire, or anything of that sort, without her. She wanted to see about Ludmilla Schmetterling, who was reported to have found a lover while studying at a class in the States, and she also meant to settle her own especial niece Emilia, whose husband was to take Bernard’s place in Ceylon and who had become heartily tired of London’s second-rate gaieties.

Those thus concerned met at the memorial service in the morning before the Bishop quitted them, where many parishioners gathered who had been spellbound in Angela’s freakish days of early girlhood, and who were greatly touched when the committal to the deep was inserted from the Forms of Prayer to be used at Sea.

It brought a deep sense of awe and thankfulness to those who had feared and wondered through the stormy uncertain life, and now could exult in what was almost a martyrdom, and had brought their beloved one to the great pure grave, as her Baptism for eternity.

Some months later, while Bernard still lay on his couch, but could speak and be glad, he rejoiced indeed, for a sore in his heart was healed, when two fair babes were brought to him,—a boy who would be as another firstborn son, and a little maiden who would bear that name which had become dear and saintly in the peculiar calendar of Vale Leston.