“Yes, blow my eyes, if I don’t stand by you, little one, as long as there is a stitch of canvas left!”

The time was very short until his men returned.  Wrapping the dead in one shroud and winding sheet, with heavy shot well secured at their feet, the captain put the little child’s lips to its mother’s, giving her an unconscious kiss, which caused the men to brush their rough sleeves across their weather-beaten eyes.  Then, reading with a broken voice, the last service for the dead, the shroud was closed, and the opening waters received them and bore them away to their last resting place.

Jumping into his boat, with the little stranger nestling in his arms, Captain Lane was soon aboard the Ocean Star, and with a fair wind and sunny skies was once more homeward bound.  The captain seemed loath to relinquish his little charge.  There was a goat on the vessel which furnished milk, and the cook prepared some dainty food for the little stranger.

“What is her name, captain?” he asked, while feeding the hungry child.  She was not old enough to know her name, and there was not found about her clothes or in the boat anything whatever by which her name could possibly be known, so she had to be rechristened.  What name should he give her?  He reflected a moment and then, remembering the name on the stern of that black, mysterious vessel, answered: 

“Morgianna!”

“Morgianna?” said the cook.

“Yes, Morgianna Lane! she is my adopted daughter.”

The cook smiled at the thought of bluff old Captain Lane the bachelor having an adopted daughter.

After the perils and excitements of such a night, it was not strange that Captain Lane slept long and soundly.  He had good officers, and when he retired he gave them orders not to disturb him, unless absolutely necessary, until he should awake.

They obeyed the injunction to the letter, and on the following morning he was awakened by hearing one of the crew ask in an undertone of the steward.

“How is little Morgianna this morning?”

“Little Morgianna,” he said to himself; and then it all came back, and with it a strangely tender dream which had all night long haunted his slumbers.  The captain rose hurriedly, dressed himself and inquired for the child, who had been resigned to the care of the cook.  She was brought to him, a bright, cheerful little thing, just beginning to lisp unintelligible words.  For a few days she missed her mother and wore a look of expectation on her infantile face, occasionally crying out; but anon this passed away, and she became cheerful and happy.  The captain spent as much of his time with her as he could spare from his duties, and as he held the little creature on his knee, heard her gentle voice in baby accents, and felt her warm baby fingers on his cheek, a new emotion took possession of his heart.  He loved little Morgianna dearly as a father might.