“Yes, I thought of it.  My gift alone, and I’m glad if it pleases you.”

“Well, it does—­lots, and I shall keep it as long as I live.”

“And this money,” turning the envelope over in her hand, and regarding it curiously “what shall I do with it, Phil?”

“Oh, that’s for you to say!”

“So it is; and it’s for me to say, also, that it is getting late, and I want to see the sun ‘set in the sea,’ as Bess calls it, this last evening of our stay at Cedar Keys.  And there’s Bess now, little plague that she is!” turning to meet the flying figure that came tearing down the garden path, with hair streaming in the wind, and sash untied and trailing on the ground in dreadful disarray.

Phil walked off, whistling, with the locket in his hand; and the last of the many childish confidences that had taken place between Lelia and her playfellow, preserver and hero was at an end.

CHAPTER XXX.

The Wreck of the OspreyY.

Thad, it was agreed, should remain a month longer with his Uncle Walter at Cedar Keys before joining his parents, sister and cousin at Oakdale.  Mrs. Leigh’s parting words to her brother was a tearful request that he would take good care of her only son, and send him safely home to them by the latter part of June, or the first of July, at the latest—­a request, of course, which Mr. Herdic solemnly promised to bear in mind; for, however unfortunate he had been in his guardianship of girls, he felt quite sure he could manage boys to his own satisfaction and that of their mothers, and not only keep them out of mischief and danger, but teach them at the same time something useful and proper for them to know.

So, one fine morning, two days after bidding his sister and her family good-by, Uncle Walter, with his handsome nephew, Thaddeus, and sturdy little Phil, set sail for Key West and the sponging-grounds, it being their purpose to take passage to the latter place on some one of the numerous fishing-crafts that were constantly passing to and fro between Key West and the scene of the hardy sponge-gatherers’ daily toil.

The steamer Osprey was not a very fast sailer, but she was staunch and trim, with fairly good cabin accommodations for a vessel of her size and build.

Mr. Herdic and his nephew had state-rooms on deck, while Phil’s was below; but he rarely occupied it, for he did not much like such close, hot, dark quarters, when there was plenty of fresh air, light and space to turn around in above.

The morning of the second day out was unusually sultry, even for that tropical latitude.  There was not a breath of wind, nor a ripple on the surface of the sea, but toward noon a breeze sprung up, which, before dark, threatened to become a hurricane.

Rain squalls were frequent, and vivid flashes of lightning and deafening peals of thunder added to the wild uproar of the elements, and sent Thad, trembling with fear, to his state-room, which he wished for the time being was below, and not so uncomfortably near the straining and creaking mast.