Home!  
“At last!” exclaimed Robin, bursting into his old home and seizing his mother in his arms.
 
Robin had just returned home after the laying of the 1866 Atlantic Cable, as briefly narrated in the last chapter.
 
It may be said with some truth that the old home became, during the next few days, a private lunatic asylum, for its inmates went mildly mad with joy.
 
Chief among the lunatics was uncle Rik, the retired sea-captain. That madman’s case, however, was not temporary derangement, like the others’. It was confirmed insanity, somewhat intensified just then by the nephew’s return.
 
“So, young man,” he said, one evening at supper, when the family traveller was dilating to open-eyed-and-mouthed listeners, “you actually believe that these cables are goin’ to work?”
 
“Of course I do, uncle. They are working now, and have been working for many years.”
 
“Well, now, the gullibility o’ some people is stupendous!” returned Rik. “Don’t you know, Robin, that everything a’most works for a time, and then, sooner or later—usually sooner—the ridiculous thing bursts up?”
 
“But, uncle, you beg the question in classing submarine cables among ridiculous things. Besides, have not dozens of cables been working satisfactorily for many years, without showing signs of bursting up as yet?”
 
“Pooh! bah! boh!” replied uncle Rik, by which he meant to say that though convinced against his will he was of the same opinion still.
 
At that moment cousin Sam Shipton entered with an eager, excited look.
 
“It’s all settled,” he said, taking Robin by the hand.
 
“What is settled?” asked Mrs Wright, somewhat anxiously.
 
“Mother, don’t be angry,” said Robin, laying his hand on his mother’s shoulder, and speaking tenderly, “I meant to have told you the moment I came in to-day, but uncle Rik with his argumentative spirit drove it and everything else except cables out of my head—”
 
“Well, but what is it?” interrupted Madge impatiently; “why do you keep us in suspense?”
 
“I have some prospect, mother, of being appointed to go with a telegraph-laying party to the East, but Sam is wrong when he says it is all settled. Whatever he may have to tell us, it is by no means settled until I have your and father’s opinion.”
 
“Well, you horribly good but ungrateful boy,” returned Sam, “it is at least settled as far as I have do with it. I have made application at head-quarters, and they are willing to take you on my recommendation. Moreover, I am myself going.”
 
“You’re joking, Sam!” exclaimed Robin, with a flush of joy; “I thought you had neither intention nor desire to go far from home.”
 
“You thought wrong, Robin. I always had desire, and now have intention—and I go as second in command. So, Miss Mayland,” he continued, turning to Madge, “I shan’t be able to continue those electrical lectures which you were so fond of once, but have lately seemed to grow tired of.”
 
Madge was at that tender age of budding womanhood when sensitive girls are apt to misunderstand a jest. She blushed, stammered something, then forced a laugh, and turned to speak to Robin; but ............