for a long time she ran without purpose, weeping, and not knowing where to go. but at last she thought of the day, so many years before, when she had been lost and when walter gay had found[pg 200] her. he had taken her then to the shop of his uncle, old solomon gills. there, she thought, she might at least find shelter.
when she got to the sign of the wooden midshipman she had just enough strength to knock and push open the door, and then, at sight of captain cuttle's honest face, all her strength left her, and she fainted on the threshold.
captain cuttle was cooking his breakfast. he knew her at once, even though she had grown to be a young lady. he lifted her and laid her on the sofa, calling her his "lady lass," and bathed her face in cold water till she opened her eyes and knew him. she told him all her story, and he comforted her, and told her the shop should be her home just as long as she would stay in it. when she had eaten some toast and drunk some tea he made her lie down in the little upper room and sleep till she woke refreshed at evening.
when she came down the stair she found captain cuttle cooking dinner. he seemed to her then to have some great, joyful and mysterious secret. all through the evening and until she went to bed he would persist in drawing the conversation around to walter, which brought the tears again and again to her eyes.
then he would rumble out, "wal'r's drown-ded, ain't he, pretty?" and nod his head and look very wise.
indeed, captain cuttle did have a wonderful[pg 201] secret. while florence had been sleeping he had received a great piece of news: walter, whom every one had believed drowned, had escaped death alone of all on the wrecked vessel. he had clung to a spar when the ship went down, and had been picked up by a vessel going in another direction, so he had had no way of sending back news of his safety. the ship that had rescued him had at last brought him back to london, and it would not be long now before he would appear at the shop.
you may guess captain cuttle's heart was full of thankfulness. but, not knowing much about such matters, he had an idea that the good news must be broken very gently to florence. so at last he commenced to tell her a story about a shipwreck in which only one was saved, and then she began to suspect the truth and her heart beat joyfully. just as he finished the story the door opened. there was walter himself, alive and well, and with a cry of joy she sprang to his arms.
there was much to talk of that night in the little shop. with her face on captain cuttle's shoulder, florence told him how and why she had left her home. and walter, as he took her hand and kissed it, knew that she was a homeless, wandering fugitive, but richer to him thus than in all the wealth and pride of her former station, that had once made her seem so far off from him. very soon after that he told florence that he loved her—not[pg 202] as a brother, but as something even dearer—and she promised to be his wife.
on the evening before their wedding-day one more surprise came to them. they were all gathered in the shop when the outer door opened. captain cuttle suddenly hit the table a terrific blow with his hook, shouted "sol gills, ahoy!" and tumbled into the arms of a man in an old, weather-beaten coat. it was old solomon gills indeed, returned from his long search, and now, to see walter there, weeping with joy.
in another moment walter and florence were both in his arms, too, and everybody was laughing and crying and talking together. old sol had been half-way around the world in his search for walter, but had finally heard of his safety and started home, knowing he would go there also. it was a very joyous evening, that last evening of florence's girl life.
the next morning walter and florence paid an early visit to the grave of little paul. she bade it a long good-by, for walter had become an officer of a ship and she was to make the coming voyage with her husband. then they went to the church, where they were married, and a few days later they sailed away to china (with captain cuttle's big watch and sugar-tongs and teaspoons, that he had once offered to mr. dombey, for wedding presents), content in each other's love.
often, indeed, in this happy honeymoon florence remembered the father who had spurned her. but walter's love had taken away the bitterness of that thought. she tried to love her father now rather as she loved the memory of little paul—not as a cruel, cold, living man, but as some one who had once lived and who might once have loved her.
