deed. There was no need for words; Norwood gave him one grateful look, and then his hand met that of his preserver in a long, firm grasp.

Perhaps a more uncomfortable position can scarcely be imagined than that of these two young officers, clinging to the life-buoy, their heads barely above the surface, and their ship out of sight, lost in the darkness of a tornado.

But Norwood was a regular midshipman, and his spirits rose at once. "I say, Mr. Onslow, you think the captain will be angry at our quitting the ship without leave?”

do

He began to laugh at his own joke, and was rightly punished-the top of a wave taking advantage of his mouth being open to run down his throat.

"What you are laughing about did really happen once on board a line-of-battle ship I served in," said Onslow. "But this is not exactly the place one would choose for spinning a yarn. You shall have it some day when we are comfortably settled on board the old hooker -if ever we do get on board."

The last words were scarcely intended to

be heard, but the midshipman caught them, nevertheless.

"Do you think there is any fear of our not being picked up? I thought we were all right when once on the life-buoy.'

"I do not despond; but I should feel much happier if I could see the frigate's bowsprit coming out of that wall of darkness."

Then Norwood knew that although the danger of immediate death had passed away, they were yet in great peril; and he grew silent.

For a quarter of a hour after this the officers scarce spoke. Indeed they had enough to do to keep their position. The sea had at last got up, and the life-buoy was tossed about in every direction like a mere cork on the waves.

The boy, exhausted with his previous struggles, began to grow tired. "I don't think I can hold on much longer," he said. "My dear fellow, don't talk like that," replied Onslow, in a cheery tone.

arm round you. That's right. is rising, the wind is gone already becoming lighter."

"Let me put my

Although the sea down; and it is

sound to cheer our hearts, and tell us that we are not forgotten?"

The faint and far-off report of a gun boomed over the waters. Five minutes passed-a second gun, and this time much closer.

Then, as if by magic, the veil of darkness. unclosed, and the two lone men on the lifebuoy saw the white sails of the frigate as she danced over the waves to the rescue; and they knew they were saved.

What a blessed haven of rest the ship seemed as the officers once more stood on the deck, receiving the warm greetings of their friends! Onslow, after changing his dress-he didn't require a bath-felt only tired and stiff from the adventure; but Norwood, thoroughly knocked up, was ordered by the doctor at once to his hammock.

CHAP. IV.-A STORY OF THE FIRST WATCH.

ALICE WINDHAM, as we have seen, already

fancied the flag-lieutenant a bit of a hero; but after the day of the tornado, when from the cabin windows she had herself watched him as he guided the life-buoy towards the sinking midshipman, her faith in him as a real hero, like a knight of old, was enshrined in her heart of hearts.

She was not far wrong, and she had at least one sharer in her belief. Young Norwood almost worshipped the man who had saved his life.

As for the object of this devotion, he could not help being somewhat touched; but he always turned off the subject with some light word, and at last told the midshipman he would not have the affair mentioned at all.