hush of two well-known voices, and I opened my eyes to see mother
with Uncle Loveday standing at my bedside.

"The boy's a bit feverish," said my uncle's voice; "he has not got
over his fright just yet."

"Hush! he's waking!" replied my mother; and as I opened my eyes she
bent down and kissed me. How inexpressibly sweet was that kiss after
the nightmare of my dream!

"Jasper dear, are you better now? Try to lie down and get some more
sleep."

But I was eager to know what news Uncle Loveday had to tell, so I sat
up and questioned him. There was little enough; though, delivered
with much pomp, it took some time in telling. Roughly, it came to
this:--

A body had been discovered--the body of a small infant--washed up on
the Polkimbra Beach. This would give an opportunity for an inquest;
and, in fact, the coroner was to arrive that afternoon from Penzance
with an interpreter for the evidence of the strange sailor, who, it
seemed, was a Greek. Little enough had been got from him, but he
seemed to imply that the vessel had struck upon Dead Man's Rock from
the south-west, breaking her back upon its sunken base, and then
slipping out and subsiding in the deep water. It must have happened
at high tide, for much coffee and basket-work was found upon
high-water line. This fixed the time of the disaster at about
4 a.m., and my mother's eyes met mine, as we both remembered that it
was about that hour when we heard the wild despairing cry. For the