morning standing at his shop-door as hale and hearty as if nothing had happened; and the Beadle of that quarter, a man of an ambitious character, who had expected to have the distinction of being present at the breaking open of the door, and of giving evidence in full uniform before the coroner, went so far as to say to an opposite neighbor, that the chap in the glazed hat had better not try it on there without more particularly mentioning what -and further, that he, the Beadle, would keep his eye upon hiin.

"Captain Cuttle," said Walter, musing, when they stood resting from their labors at the shop-door, looking down the old familiar street; it being still early in the morning; "nothing at all of Uncle Sol, in all that time!"

"Nothing at all, my lad," replied the Captain, shaking his head.

"Gone in search of me, dear, kind, old man," said Walter; "yet never write to you! But why not? He says, in effect, in this packet that you gave me," taking the paper from his pocket, which had been opened in the presence of the enlightened Bunsby, "that if you never hear from him before opening it, you may believe him dead. Heaven forbid! But you would have heard of him, even if he were dead. Some one would have written, surely, by his desire, if he could not; and have said 'on such a day, there died in my house,' or 'under my care,' or so forth, Mr. Solomon Gills of London, who left this last remembrance and this last request to you.'

The Captain, who had never climbed to such a clear height of probability before, was greatly impressed by the wide prospect it opened, and answered with a thoughtful shake of his head, "Well said, my lad; wery well said."

"I have been thinking of this, or, at least," said Walter, coloring, "I have been thinking of one thing and another, all through a sleepless night, and I cannot believe, Captain Cuttle, but that my Uncle Sol (Lord bless him!) is alive, and will return. I don't so much wonder at his going away, because, leaving out of consideration that spice of the marvellous which was always in his character, and his great affection for me, before which every other consideration of his life became nothing, as no one ought to know so well as I who had the best of fathers in him,"

-Walter's voice was indistinct and husky here, and he looked away along the street," leaving that out of consideration, I say, I have often read and heard of people who, having some near and dear relative, who was supposed to be shipwrecked at sea, have gone down to live on that part of the sea shore where any tidings of the missing ship might be expected to arrive, though only an hour or two sooner than elsewhere, or have even gone upon her track to the place whither she was bound, as if their going would create intelligence. I think I should do such a thing myself, as soon as another, or sooner than many, perhaps. But why my uncle shouldn't write to you, when he so clearly intended to do so, or how he should die abroad, and you not know it through some other hand, I cannot make out."

Captain Cuttle observed, with a shake of his head, that Jack Bunsby himself hadn't made it out, and that he was a man as could give a pretty taut opinion too.

But,

"If my uncle had been a heedless young man, likely to be entrapped by jovial company to some drinking-place, where he was to be got rid of for the sake of what money he might have about him," said Walter; "or if he had been a reckless sailor, going ashore with two or three months' pay in his pocket, I could understand his disappearing, and leaving no trace behind. being what he was-and is, I hope-I can't believe it." "Wal'r, my lad," inquired the Captain, wistfully eyeing him as he pondered and pondered, "what do you make of it, then ?" "Captain Cuttle," returned Walter, "I don't know what to make of it. I suppose he never has written? There is no doubt about that ?"

"If so be as Sol Gills wrote, my lad," replied the Captain, argumentatively, "where's his dispatch ?"

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Say that he intrusted it to some private hand," suggested Walter, "and that it has been forgotten, or carelessly thrown aside, or lost. Even that is more probable to me, than the other In short, I not only cannot bear to contemplate that other event, Captain Cuttle, but I can't, and won't."

event.

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Hope, you see, Wal'r," said the Captain, sagely, "Hope. It's that as animates you. Hope is a buoy, for which you overhaul your Little Warbler, sentimental diwision, but Lord, my lad, like any other buoy, it only floats; it can't be steered no

where. Along with the figure-head of Hope," said the Captain, "there's a anchor; but what's the good of my having a anchor, if I can't find no bottom to let it go in ?"

Captain Cuttle said this rather in his character of a sagacious citizen and house holder, bound to impart a morsel from his stores of wisdom to an inexperienced youth, than in his own proper person. Indeed, his face was quite luminous as he spoke with new hope, caught from Walter; and he appropriately concluded by slapping him on the back; and saying, with enthu siasm," Hooroar, my lad! indiwidually, I'm o' your opinion." Walter, with his cheerful laugh, returned the salutation, and said:

"Only one word more about my uncle at present, Captain Cuttle. I suppose it is impossible that he could have written in the ordinary course-by mail packet or ship letter, you understand-"

"Aye, aye, my lad," said the Captain approvingly.

And that you have missed the letter, anyhow ?"

"Why, Wal'r," said the Captain, turning his eyes upon him with a faint approach to a severe expression, "an't I been on the look-out for any tidings of that man o' science, old Sol Gills, your uncle, day and night, ever since I lost him? An't my heart been heavy and watchful always, along of him and you? Sleeping and waking, an't I been upon my post, and wouldn't I have scorned to quit it while this here Midshipman held together!"

"Yes, Captain Cuttle," replied Walter, grasping his hand, "I know you would, and I know how faithful and earnest all you say and feel is. I am sure of it. You don't doubt that I am as sure of it, as I am that my foot is again upon this door-step, or

that I again have hold of this true hand. Do you?"

"No, no, Wal'r," returned the Captain, with his beaming face. "I'll hazard no more conjectures," said Walter, fervently shaking the hard hand of the Captain, who shook his with no less good will. "All I will add is, Heaven forbid that I should touch my uncle's possessions, Captain Cuttle! Everything that he left here, shall remain in the care of the truest of stewards and kindest of men-and if his name is not Cuttle, he has no name! Now, best of friends, about-Miss Dombey."

There was a change in Walter's manner, as he came to these two words; and when he uttered them, all his confidence and cheerfulness appeared to have deserted him.

"I thought, before Miss Dombey stopped me when I spoke of her father last night," said Walter, "-you remember how?" The Captain well remembered, and shook his head.

"I thought," said Walter, "before that, that we had but one hard duty to perform, and that it was, to prevail upon her to communicate with her friends, and to return home."

The Captain muttered a feeble "Awast!" or a "Stand by!" or something or other, equally pertinent to the occasion; but it was rendered so extremely feeble by the total discomfiture with which he received this announcement, that what it was is mere matter of conjecture.

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But," said Walter, "that is over. I think so no longer. I would sooner be put back again on that piece of wreck, on which I have so often floated, since my preservation, in my dreams, and there left to drift, and drive, and die!"

"Hooroar, my lad!" exclaimed the Captain, in a burst of uncontrollable satisfaction. "Hooroar! Hooroar! Hooroar !"

"To think that she, so young, so good, and beautiful," said Walter, "so delicately brought up, and born to such a different fortune, should strive with the rough world!—But we have seen the gulf that cuts off all behind her, though no one but herself can know how deep it is; and there is no return."

Captain Cuttle, without quite understanding this, greatly ap proved of it, and observed, in a tone of strong corroboration, that the wind was right abaft.

"She ought not to be alone here; ought she, Captain Cuttle?" said Walter, anxiously.

"Well, my lad," replied the Captain, after a little sagacious consideration. "I don't know. You being here to keep her company, you see, and you too being jintly-"

"Dear Captain Cuttle!" remonstrated Walter. "I being here! Miss Dombey in her guileless innocent heart, regards me as her adopted brother; but what would the guile and guilt of my heart be, if I pretended to believe that I had any right to approach her, familiarly, in that character-if I pretended to forget that I am bound, in honor, not to do it!"

"Wal'r, my lad," hinted the Captain, with some revival of his discomfiture, "an't there no other character as-'

"Oh!" returned Walter, "would you have me die in her esteem in such esteem as hers—and put a veil between myself and her angel's face for ever, by taking advantage of her being here for refuge, so trusting and so unprotected, to endeavor to exalt myself into her lover! What do I say? There is no one in the world who would be more opposed to me if I could do so, than you."

"Wal'r, my lad," said the Captain, drooping more and more, "prowiding as there is any just cause or impedemint why two persons should not be jined together in the house of bondage, for which you'll overhaul the place and make a note, I hope I should declare it as promised and wowed in the banns. So there an't no other character; an't there, my lad ?"

Walter briskly waved his hand in the negative.

"Well, my lad," growled the Captain slowly, "I won't deny but what I find myself wery much down by the head, along o' this here, or but what I've gone clean about. But as to Ladylass, Wal'r, mind you, wot's respect and duty to her, is respect and duty in my articles, howsumever disapinting; and therefore I follows in your wake, my lad, and feel as you are, no doubt, acting up to yourself. And there an't no other character, an't there!" said the Captain, musing over the ruins of his fallen. castle, with a very despondent face.

"Now, Captain Cuttle," said Walter, starting a fresh point with a gayer air, to cheer the Captain up-but nothing could do that; he was too much concerned-"I think we should exert ourselves to find some one who will be a proper a:tendant for Miss Dombey while she remains here, and who may be trusted. None of her relations may. It's clear Miss Dombey feels that they are all subservient to her father. What has become of Susan ?"

"The young woman ?" returned the Captain. "It's my belief as she was sent away again the will of Heart's Delight. I made a signal for her when Lady-lass first come, and she rated of her wery high, and said she had been gone a long time."

"Then," said Walter, "do you ask Miss Dombey where she's gone, and we'll try to find her. The morning's getting on, and