"Poor old chap!" said the captain. "You mustn't be too hard upon him

for that, Valmai, becos Ay dare say he couldn't help it. P'r'aps you

wouldn't believe it now, but there was a taime when Ay swore like a

trooper; and it grew upon me so much that Ay d--d everything!--even the

milk for breakfast--and Ay'm dashed if Ay could stop it, Valmai. May

poor mother was alive then, and she sez to me one day with tears in her

eyes, 'Tray, may boy, to leave off swearing; it is killing me,' she

sez, with her sweet, gentle voice. So Ay sez to mayself, 'John,' Ay

sez, 'you are a d--d fool. You're killing your mother with your

foolish swears. Pull up short,' sez Ay, 'and tray and faind some other

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word that'll do.' So Ay fixed upon 'tarnished,' and Ay'm dashed if may

mother wasn't perfectly satisfayed. It's a grand word! Puts you in

mind of tar and 'tarnal and tarpauling, and lots of shippy things.

'Twas hard to get used to it at first; but 'pon may word now, may dear,

it comes as nat'ral as swearing. But there! go on with the story.

Where were we?"

Valmai was a little bewildered by the captain's reminiscences.

"Well, we had just come to where the girl, or rather the young wife,

had gone to live with her other uncle. Here she would have been as

happy as the day is long, had it not been for the continual sorrow for

her lover."

The captain began to look a little suspicious, but Valmai hastened to

prevent further interruptions.

"But now comes the wonderful part of the story, uncle. A dreadful

storm arose, and a thick fog came on, and the ship in which the

bridegroom sailed was so damaged that she had to put back for repairs.

The young man found lodgings in the town, and what house do you think

he came to? but the very one where the bride lived with her dear old

uncle, and they made up their minds to tell him everything, and to

throw themselves on his generosity. Dear uncle, what do you think of

my story?"

"Dashed if Ay didn't begin to think it was me you meant by the old man.

But child, child, you are not going to cheat that kind old uncle, and

tell him a pack of lies, and laugh at him. You are not the bride?"

"Yes, uncle," said Valmai, with blushing face and drooping eyelids.

"And Mr. Gwyn is the bridegroom?"

"Yes. His name is Wynne, not Gwyn."

"And you knew nothing about it until he came here yesterday?"

"Nothing; but that he had sailed in the Burrawalla, and when I heard

she had returned a wild hope came to me, and when I heard his voice in

the passage I could have fainted with joy."