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.
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