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THE SILVER LINING.

A GUERNSEY STORY.

CHAPTER I.

ne fine summer afternoon—it was the month of June—the sea was calm, the air was still, and the sun was warm.

The mackerel boats from Cobo (a bay in the island of Guernsey) were setting sail; an old woman was detaching limpets from the rocks, and slowly, but steadily, filling up her basket. On the west side of the bay, two air-starved Londoners were sitting on the sand, basking in the sunshine, determined to return home, if not invigorated, at least bronzed by the sea air. On the east side, a few little boys were bathing. A middle-aged man, engaged in searching for sand-eels, completed the picture.

A little boy, who might have been nine years of age, was standing in the road gazing upon this scene. The way in which he was clothed, betokened that he was not one of the lads that lived in the vicinity of that bay. He was dressed in a well-fitting knickerbocker suit, and his polished boots, his well combed hair, denoted that he was an object of especial care at home. He possessed a very intelligent air, a fine forehead, rather large eyes which were full of expression, and his frowning look, the way in which he stamped his little foot, denoted that he was of an impulsive temperament. This little fellow had some very good ideas. He had determined to be good, and unselfish; and he tried to learn as much as he possibly could. His mother had told him that later on this would help him in life.

Once, an inquisitive pedlar, noticing his intelligence, and his garrulous disposition, asked him jokingly if he ever intended to marry. Upon which Frank Mathers (this was the boy's name) assumed a serious air, and giving his head a little toss he answered, "I do not know yet, there are so many beautiful little girls everywhere, one does not know which one to choose."

A physiognomist might easily have seen that in this little boy's soul a struggle was going on. "Shall I go?" he was saying to himself; "shall I go and amuse myself?" His conscience had a great power over him; but the beautiful sea was tempting, each wave as it fell produced a sound which was sweeter to his ears than the sweetest music.

"Your mother has forbidden you to go;" said his conscience; "you must obey her."

He continued to remain undecided between pleasure and duty, the strife going on meanwhile within him. All at once, he espied on his extreme left four small boys about his size, who were coming out of the water. How they laughed; how joyful they seemed to be; how they made the water splash and foam around them. Frank immediately began to run at full speed towards them, and covered the space of sand which separated him from the little boys in two minutes. He arrived breathless near the group of children who were dressing themselves. He looked at them, and was asking himself if he must go nearer to them, when one of the group looked at him with a surly air. Little Frank translated this into: "What business have you here?" and retreated.

He began to examine the man who was looking for sand-eels. The fisherman was digging in the gravel with a spade, and now and then a few of the little fishes were dislodged from their hiding place. They wriggled in such a lively fashion that Frank was greatly amused, and forgot, for a time, all about his first desire of a run in the sea.

He laughed aloud when he saw a big sand-eel, bigger than any which the man had yet captured—for he took the trouble to go and see in his basket—escape into the water and swim out of the man's reach.

The fisherman was evidently annoyed at having lost this fine specimen, and when he saw this little fellow laughing, and standing quite close to his basket, he grew angry, and in a rough tone of voice, speaking in Guernsey French, he exclaimed: "Begone, you impudent little rascal."

Now, little Frank did not know French, and consequently did not understand a single word of what this man said, but he hastily retreated. "He must have uttered something terrible," he said to himself; "what an ugly face. Why is this man vexed with me? I have done nothing to grieve him; only bent over his basket and laughed when I saw that fish escape; but why did not the man laugh also? It was so amusing."

He looked round to see whether he could discover any of those little boys who had attracted his attention when he was in the road, but none of them were visible. There were a few persons here and there, but no one was near him. He made sure of this by directing his eyes successively in the direction of every point of the compass. The "sand-eel man" was still busy, but he was far enough. Frank hastened behind a small rock and began to undress. As he did so, he experienced a series of queer sensations. He was tasting pleasure at the expense of his conscience, and, struggle as he would, he felt unhappy. It was the first time that he thus openly disregarded his mother's commands, and it cost him something to do so.

It did not take him long to divest himself of his clothing. He was soon in the water, dancing and romping. The water around him resembled that of Lodore.

He now felt happy, having forgotten all about his mother and the errand which she had sent him to accomplish.

The water was warm; the little green crabs that walked sideways passing quite close to him, amused him considerably. He passed a portion of his time chasing them. Then he waded farther into the water till it came up to his hips. Ah, this was pleasure indeed! He would not have exchanged his place for a suite of rooms in Buckingham Palace.

He had been in the water for about a quarter of an hour. He glanced round to see if the fisherman was to be seen. No trace of him now.

"He has gone home," he thought. He began to feel cold. "I must go and dress," he said to himself, "or I shall catch cold, and then mamma will know that I have been bathing."

Frank proceeded towards the place where he had placed his clothes, but as he approached the shore, he found that the water seemed to be getting warmer. This discovery was the cause of his staying five minutes longer in the water than he would otherwise have done.

Then he again betook himself towards terra firma. "Hullo, what's this?" And he held up a boot. "How strange, it looks exactly like mine," he muttered. Then a thought—a flash shot through his brain, immediately followed by a pang through his heart. The thought—"where are my clothes?"—the pang—the result of his disappointing glance towards the place in which he had placed them. He was out of the water in the twinkling of an eye. The boot which he had found was in his hand. Where were his trousers? where was his coat? There was his shirt being knocked about by the waves! He rushed upon it, threw it on the gravel near his boot, and began tremblingly to search for his other garments. He at last succeeded in bringing together the following collection: One pair of trousers, one stocking, one boot, one shirt. That was all.

He was now shivering from head to foot, his teeth chattered in his mouth, his whole appearance was one of utter wretchedness. He did not cry; he was too miserable; he only kept muttering: "I will never disobey mamma any