Year: 1870

At that time the now >aourishing tow1
of Venter had scarce begun to exist; onl,
few houses relieve the picturesque wild
ness of the scenery, amid which the sound
of the villagers formed an. exciting accom-
paninent to the dash of she waves anon.
the numerous breakers ard the fury of th'
equinoctial gale.


Up and down the steep acclivities Of th'
old road, winding about4the face of th'
did the villagers continue NOV
ing with their lights long after midnight
for the parting threat of the boy had causeo
a general belief that he bad committed
some rash act-perhaps thrown himself
over the cliffs, or into the sea.
What else could have become of him
He bad neither money nor food, MOI
nor friends, nor any hope of help
Of any kind that any one knew out of Bon
church. One person limited at gypsies,
another at smugglers, and the bold, ener-
gctic character Of the boy made the mas
ter fancy it might be possible that he join
ed one or the other. But gypsies had not
been seen in Bonchurch fer many months,
and the smugglers of that part of the is
and were we'll known to the residents and
On good terms with them and they denied
any knowledge of the boy.


Gradually the search ceased, except on
he part of the schoolmaster, who walked
n every direction, inquiring and examin-
ng. But at last he too lost hope; and as
le stood in Ventor Cave when stormy
hight was darkening around. and the wind
md waves ragged fearful unison, he felt
! melancholy conviction that Harry Bon
Ter was lost forever.


Twenty years rolled away and the dis
appearance of the boy wasstill profound
mystery.


The blacksmith had died Of intemper-
nee and no one lamerted him. The
choolmaster's sister neeeed nothing more
n this world. Most of Harry's school
mates were dead and of ts ose who surviv-
j scarcely any remaiuel Ia the village.
wed IN bis humble cottage, ana Kvpr
chool. But he was grown old, and soli-
ary. and infrm; and so poor that he was
lmost reduced to a shadow with hard liv-
ng.


In his best days he eked out his little
ncome by cultivating few vegetables
md common fruit; and this was still his
esource when he could hobble out on fue
lays into his patch of garden ground.


His spirits had been unusually depress-
ID by the decline Of his strength, poverty.
lis forlorn condition and the memory of
lis sister, when at sunset one day he stood
It his school room window. looking toward
he sea. The lattice was open for the
Weather was warm, and his withered face
;elt refreshed by the breeze that played
,ver it.


But that which chiefly detained him
here and held him in kind of fascina-
ion was the unusual appearance Of a ship
If war, one Of the most imposing size,
noored near Ventor.


The old mans memory was quickened
~ the spectacle, and he thought of Harry
Bonner, who on the day of his disappear
,nce had been detected by him watching
ust such vessel, while his neglected
book was thrown aside on the form.


Gazing and musing; the master stood
while the shadows of twilight gathered
over the scene; the masts and rigging Of
the chief object of his attention grew in
distinct. darkness came quickly and with
it storm which had been iu preparation
some hours.


The master hastily closed the lattice as
a flash Of lightning broke in upon his mus
ings. He turned to leave the schoolroon
and to enter his cottage; but what figure
was that which, amidst the obscurity, ap
peared seated on the identical spot, on the
chief form. where Harry Bonner sat wher
he learned with such surprising rapiditJ
his double lesson, after watching the man
of-war from the window?


The schoolmaster had grown nervous
and rather fanciful, and I know not wha
he imagined it might be; but his breatl
came quick and short for an instant ant
then he asked in faint voice, "Who i
there p


A manly voice replied, "Only Harr.
Bonner"


The lightning lit up the whole of th
large dreary-looking schoolroom and re
vealed to the schoolmaster the figure of


naval officer, on whose breast glittere
decorations of rank and honor.