there wasn't another morsel of any one of them in my locker.  Then
thinks I to myself, `It's time to look out sharp, or some of these merry
chaps with forked tails will be playing me a trick;' for you see that
they'd already begun to open their mouths very wide, and to splash the
water right over me as they whisked about round the boat, just like
sharks in the West Indies.  So I got out my oars pretty sharp, and began
to pull away towards Spithead, thinking to get clear of them, and to
carry my freight ashore as I'd engaged to do.  But I soon found that the
smoke-worms weren't quite so ready to part company with me, and as my
boat began to gather way, they began to swim after her.  The big fellow
led, and all the others followed.  There was hundreds of them, of all
sizes, and one little chap, who brought up the rear, was no bigger than
a sprat.  After me they came with open months and big red eyes, all the
hair on their backs standing up, and their tails whisking about like the
flukes of a whale in a flurry.  Didn't I just pull for dear life, for I
knew what they'd be after if they once grappled me.  They would have
swallowed me, every one of them.  I soon gave up all thoughts of
fetching up the ship I was bound for.  It would never have done to have
gone alongside one of his Majesty's crack frigates with such a train
after me.  I should have lost my character, you know.  On I pulled; I
didn't spare the oars, depend upon it; but, somehow or other, the way in
which the tide set, and the manner in which the brutes dodged me, made
me go right out to Spithead, and there I found myself pulling among a
whole fleet of men-of-war and Indiamen.  The officers and ships'
companies crowded into the hammock nettings and rigging to see me pass,
and never have I heard such shouts of laughter as they raised as I
pulled by.  Neither to the one side nor to the other could I turn; for
if I did, as surely one of the beasts would instantly swim up, with open
mouth, and make a grab at my oar to keep me going straight ahead.  I
sung out to the people aboard the ships in mercy's name to take a shot
at some of the bigger brutes, for I thought that I could grapple with
the little ones; but either they didn't or wouldn't hear me; so away I
pulled right out towards the Nab.  Thinks I to myself, `Perhaps the
people in the lightship will lend a helping hand to an old seaman;' but
not a bit of it.  When they saw me coming with my train of forked-tailed
brutes after me, they sung out that I must sheer off, or they would let
fly at me.  So there I was fairly at sea, followed by as disagreeable a
set of customers as a man ever had astern of him.

"I didn't bless Doctor Gulliman exactly, for I could not help thinking
that somehow or other he had had a hand in the mystification.  I now
pulled up my larboard oar a little, and found that I was going right
round by the Culver cliffs.  `Well, I'll get on shore at the back of the
Wight anyhow, and do them,' I thought to myself.  But what do ye think;
the moment I tried the dodge, the cunning brutes kept edging me off the
land, till I saw that there was no hope for me but to go on.  All the
time they made such a tremendous hissing and splashing and whisking,
that you'd have thought a whole ship's company was washing decks above
your head, and heaving water about in bucketsful.  It was now night, but
there was light enough and to spare to enable me to see the beasts as
they kept way with me.  I passed Sandown and Ventnor and Steephill, and
could see the lights in the houses all along the shore; but as to being
able to land, the wriggling brutes in my wake, as I said, took good care
that I shouldn't do that.  By the time I got off Saint Catherine's my
arms began to ache a bit, and I felt as if I couldn't pull another
stroke; but when I just lay on my oars to take breath and to knock the
drops off my brow, which were falling down heavy enough to swamp the
boat, the look of their wicked eyes and big mouths, as they came hissing
up open-jawed alongside, set me off again pretty fast.  I passed
Blackgang Chine, and caught a sight of Brooke, and then I thought I
would try to pull into Freshwater Gate, when I would beach the boat, and
have a run for my life on shore, for I didn't think they would come out
of the water after me.  The truth was that I couldn't bear the look of
them any longer; but the wriggling beasts were up to me, and before I
had so much as turned the boat's head towards the Gate, three or four of
the biggest fellows ranged up on my starboard side, and cut me off.  I
sung out in my rage and disappointment, but this only made matters
worse, and my eyes if they didn't begin to laugh at me, and such a laugh
I never did hear before, and hope I never may again.  It was like ten
thousand donkeys troubled with sore throats trying which would sing out
the loudest, and twice as many jackals mocking them, all joined in
chorus.  At last I got to Scratchell's Bay.  `Now's my time,' thinks I,
`if they once get me on a course down Channel, they may drive me right
round the world, or over to the coast of America at shortest.'  I knew
well the passage through the Needle rocks.  The flood was about making.
There might be just water for the boat, but none to spare.  `No odds,'
thinks I.  So, while I pretended to be steering for Portland, I shoved
the boat round, and then gave way with a will.  `If I knock the boat to
pieces against the rocks, I shall not be worse off than I am now,' I
said to myself, as I pulled for the passage.  I just hit it.  The keel
of the boat grazed over a rock below water; but the tide was running
strong, and I shot through like an arrow, and there I was in Alum Bay.
Now the passage was too narrow, you see, for the forked-tailed beasts to
get through, and they had a good chance of hurting themselves on the
rocks if they attempted it; so, if they had been as wise as I took them
for, I knew that they would go all the way round the outer Needle rock,
and that this would give me a great start.  Instead of that, in their
eagerness to follow me, what should they do but bolt right at the
passage.  The big fellow stuck fast, and the little ones couldn't get by
him, and there they were, to my great delight, all knocking their noses
against the rocks, and wriggling and hissing and struggling and kicking
up such a row, that I thought the people at Milford and Yarmouth, and
all along the coast, would be awoke up out of their quiet sleep to
wonder what it was all about.  However, it would never have done for me
to lay on my oars to watch the fun, because I thought it just as likely
as not, when the tide rose, that the noisy brutes might shove through
and be after me again, so I pulled away as hard as ever right up the
Solent, till I got safe back again into Portsmouth harbour.  Luckily, I
had the whole of the flood with me, or I never could have done it.  My
arms ached as it was not a little.  I moored my boat securely, and as it
wasn't yet daybreak, I lay down in the bottom of the boat, and fell
asleep.  I never slept so soundly in my life, and no wonder, after the
pull I had had.

"When I awoke the sun was shining out brightly, and I heard some one on
board a vessel coming up the harbour hail and call somebody or other a
drunken old rascal.  Who he meant of course I couldn't tell; that was
nothing to me.  At last I sat up in my boat, and rubbed my eyes, and
there was the doctor's bottles and the empty rum bottle and the can,
without any water in it, just as I left them when I was taken ill.  I
half expected to see the whole troop of wriggling, twisting,
forked-tailed smoke-worms coming up the harbour with the last of the
flood; but though I looked out till the tide had done, they didn't come,
and it's my belief that they knocked themselves about so much against
the Needle rocks, that they put about and went down Channel; and all I
can say is that I hope that every one of 'em was drowned or came to some
other bad end out at sea, and that I may never as long as I live have
such a night as the one I spent after taking Doctor Gulliman's physic.
Sarvant, marm and gentlemen, you'll agree that story is worth five
shillings.  Howsomedever, I never charges my friends, but gives them all
free gratis and for nothing."  And old Jerry gave one of his most
knowing winks as he finished off his glass and took up his hat to
prepare for his departure.

I ought perhaps to apologise for giving such a story; but it is a fair
specimen of the style of narrative in which old seamen of Jerry
Vincent's stamp are apt to indulge, and I have heard many such, though
seldom told with so much spirit, during my career at sea.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

VISIT TO PLYMOUTH--BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT--MISS RUNDLE'S ACCOUNT OF
CHARLEY--VOYAGE TO SHETLAND--WRECKED AGAIN--FALL AMONG FRIENDS--NEAR
DEATH'S DOOR--HAPPY ENCOUNTER--DESCRIPTION OF SHETLAND--MY RESIDENCE
THERE--MARRIED--SUMMONED SOUTHWARD.

I did not think that I should ever have got tired of living at Southsea
with my kind aunt and fine hearty old uncle, but I had been so
accustomed to a roving life and active employment, that in a little time
I began to consider that I ought to be looking out for something to do.
What to do was the question.  I had a fancy for staying on shore after
having been knocked about at sea for so many years, and setting up in
some business.

"What, have you forgotten Margaret Troall?" said my aunt to me one day.

The chord was struck.  "No, indeed, I have not," said I; "I'll go and
find her, and bring her back to you as my wife if she will have me."

I had given all my money to my uncle to have put safe in a bank for me.
The next day I drew thirty pounds of it, and shipped myself aboard a
smack bound for Plymouth.

Strange as it may seem, all the time I had been on shore I had never
once thought of my oath and its consequence, but scarcely had I got to
sea than the recollection of it came back, and I fully expected that
some accident would happen to me before I reached my destination.  It
did not, however.  I landed in safety, and walked immediately up to the
house where I hoped to find the old lady and her niece.  How strange it
seemed!  I never felt in such a way before in my life.  A child might
have knocked me down.  I got to the house.  How well I knew it!  I
looked in, as I had done before, at the parlour window.  I fully
expected to see the old lady sitting in her arm-chair and knitting, as I
had when I was last there.  My heart jumped up right into my throat, and
then down it went I don't know where.  There was no old lady there; but
there were three little children, fat, chubby, merry things, tumbling
about head over heels on the floor, and shouting and shrieking with
laughter, while a young woman sat on a low chair knitting and
encouraging them in their gambols, while she rocked a cradle with her
foot.  "All sorts of strange thoughts came into my head.  Who can she
be, I wonder?  Can it be?"  I said.  I looked at her very hard, but the
glass was thick and dirty, and I could not make out her features.  With
a trembling hand I knocked at the door.  A servant girl, after a little
delay, opened it.

"Does Mrs Sandon live here?"  I asked.

"No, she doesn't," was the short answer.

"Can you tell me where she lives?"  I said.

"No; she does not live anywhere, she's dead," said the girl, who seemed
determined not to throw a word away.

"Dead!" said I.  "Dead! just like Granny," I muttered, scarcely knowing
what I was saying.  The girl was going to slam the door in my face.
"Can you tell me, my good girl, who that lady is in the parlour?" said
I, stopping her.

"Yes, that's Mrs Jones," was the answer.

I was no wiser than before.  "Can you tell me what her maiden name was?"
said I, in a low, trembling voice.

"Missus never was a maid-servant; she was always a lady, as she is now,"
answered the girl, with a toss of her head, again attempting to slam to
the door.

"Stop, stop!"  I exclaimed, in an agitated manner.  "Can you tell me
whether she was Mrs Sandon's niece?"

"She'd nothing to do with Mrs Sandon that I knows on," said the girl;
"you're asking a lot of questions.  You wouldn't, if master was at
home."

I was fairly beaten.  Just then I heard a footstep behind me, and on
looking round, who should I see but Miss Rundle, tripping along the
pavement up to her own door, looking as brisk and young as ever.

"Oh, Miss Rundle, I'm so glad to see you!"  I exclaimed, forgetting all
the proprieties, and running after her.  "Can you tell me anything about
my kind friends who lived in our old house, and where I met you last at
tea?"  I thought she would have shrieked out when she saw me--she looked
so astonished.

"Why, who are you? where did you come from?  What do you want?  Why, I
thought you were dead.  You are not alive, are you?"

"I hope so, Miss Rundle.  I fancy I am.  I've done nothing to kill me
lately, and I know that I was alive a short time ago," I answered,
laughing in spite of my agitation.

"Well, if you are sure that you are alive, come in here and sit down and
tell me all about it," said the little old lady, opening the door of her
house with a latch-key which she drew from her pocket, and pointing to
the parlour, which she signed to me to enter.

I took off my hat and sat down, wondering what strange news I was to
hear.  She presently made her appearance, having laid aside her walking
dress.  I felt myself completely at home in a moment, she looked so
exactly as she had done when I last saw her on that delightful evening I
spent at Plymouth, and I so well remembered her in the days of my
boyhood.

"Well, Willand, I am glad to see you," said she in a kinder tone than
usual.  "A young man whom you know, and whose name I would rather not
repeat,--indeed I do not like thinking about him,--told us that you were
dead--drowned or killed somehow or other at sea.  Perhaps he had his own
selfish ends to serve, or perhaps he believed it; we will hope for the
best."

"Who do you mean!  What do you speak of, Miss Rundle?"  I exclaimed, in
a voice full of agitation.

"I speak of that false deceiver, that bad, heartless fellow, Charles
Iffley," she answered, in a tone which showed her strong dislike to my
former friend.  "Do you know, some time after you were here he returned
from sea, and came up here to visit me, and talked of old times and old
friendships, and how I had known his poor mother and his friends, till I
was quite taken with him; and then he presented me with a stuffed parrot
and two little pets of Java sparrows he called them (which certainly
were very merry and hopped about gaily in their cage), and a dried
snake, which he told me was a great curiosity; and he used to drop in to
tea nearly every evening, and certainly he used to talk very pleasantly.
However, it is not always the talkers that are the best doers or the
best people.  Then he began to inquire about the ladies next door, and I
invited them in to meet him, and he made himself still more agreeable
than ever.  This went on for some time, till I saw that he admired Miss
Margaret, old Mrs Sandon's niece; however, as he had plenty of money,
that was no business of mine.  I must say that by this time I did not
think so well of him as at first.  Many things he said were very
incorrect, and the snake he gave me began to be so disagreeable that I
was obliged to throw it away, and my maid told me that she was certain
the sparrows were no great things, so we examined them carefully, and
there could be no doubt about it, they were merely common English
sparrows painted.  When he came in and was waiting for me sometimes (for
he used to watch when I was out on purpose), he used to give them a
touch up, and tell me that he had been washing them and restoring their
plumage, and in that way he kept up the deception so long.  An old
gentleman, a friend of mine, who used to be fond of poking about and
looking into old curiosity shops, happened to call, and I showed him the
parrot which Charles Iffley told me had come from some part of Africa or
South America round Cape Horn, only that it had died before he could
give it to me.  When my friend saw the stuffed parrot, he turned it
about and examined it, and then showing me a ticket fastened to its
claw, told me that he knew the old Jew's shop where that bad fellow had
bought it, and to a certainty that he had not given more than a shilling
for it.  All this was very provoking, and made me begin to think very
differently of him to what I had done at first.  I did fancy that he
might have had some regard for an old friend."  And the old lady drew
herself up and uttered a gentle sigh.  "Such a dream was soon blown to
the winds," she continued.  "I found that he was constantly going and
calling at Mrs Sandon's, and very often he did not look in on me at
all.  It did not seem to me, however, that Margaret liked him, though I
think her aunt thought well of him, and encouraged him to come to the
house.  He had never spoken of you, I found, till one day I mentioned
your name, when he said, `Ah, poor fellow! he was a great friend of
mine.  I first got him a ship, and helped to make a sailor of him.  I
was very sorry to lose him.'

"`How lose him?' asked Miss Margaret gently.  Then he told them how you
had been sent away in a boat expedition in Teneriffe, to cut out some
prizes, and that the boat you were in had been knocked to pieces, and
that you had been either killed by the shot of the enemy or drowned, and
that nothing since had been heard of you."

"I cannot blame Charley, then," said I to Miss Rundle.  "I have no doubt
that he fully believed the statement he made.  Had I not succeeded in
getting on board another vessel, I should have been drowned, and we have
never met since.  But what occurred after this?--go on."

"You shall hear.  When he saw that Miss Margaret took some interest in
you, he began to talk of you in a disparaging way, as a poor sort of a
fellow, easily led, and that you had all sorts of strange fancies, which
he said he supposed had come to you with the northern blood which flowed
in your veins, and then he spoke in no complimentary way of Scotland and
the Orkney and Shetland people.  He said he forgot to which you
belonged.  I saw the colour come into Miss Margaret's cheeks.  `I belong
to Shetland myself,' said she.  `It is a country I love dearly.'  On
this, the young man began to apologise, and said that he was speaking
without consideration; that he had known one bad Orkney man, and that
was all, whereas he had known hundreds of bad Englishmen, and he hoped
Miss Margaret would pardon him.  She bowed, but said nothing.  He did
his best to make amends for what he had said, and certainly if attention
would have won a woman, he would have won her.  I could not help seeing
that was his aim.  However, his behaviour to me had not made me wish to
give him any help.  And, do you know, I found that he had been speaking
in a very disrespectful way of me.  I cannot repeat the names he called
me.  It showed me clearly what he was, and, though I did not like to
interfere, still I only hoped he would not succeed in winning that sweet
girl."

"Did he succeed, though?"  I exclaimed, in a voice choking with
agitation.  "Oh! tell me, Miss Rundle."

"You shall hear," answered the old lady, who was not to be hurried with
her narrative.  "Of course, having won the good opinion of the aunt was
a great point in his favour.  So he used to continue to go to the house
as often as ever.  He took the aunt all sorts of pretty presents, though
he did not venture to offer them to Margaret.  At last, however, he
seemed to think that the time was come when he must try his chance.  So
he walked in and found Margaret in the room alone, and he told her, in
an off-hand sort of way, that he loved her, and that, if she would marry
him, he would give up the sea and live on shore, and make her
comfortable and happy for the rest of her days."

"Did she accept him? did she marry him?"  I exclaimed, interrupting the
old lady.

"You shall hear, Mr Wetherholm," she answered quietly.  "What woman
does not feel flattered by receiving a proposal of marriage from a
fine-looking, free-spoken young man.  I'm sure I should."  And she put
her hand mechanically before her face to hide the gentle blush which the
thought conjured up on her cheek.  "She thanked him, but entreated him
not to persist in his offers.  Then she frankly told him that one she
had loved had died at sea; that her heart was buried with him in his
ocean grave; and that she could not marry a man she did not love.  She
was very firm, and Charles Iffley could not help seeing that he had very
little chance of success.  She told me this shortly afterwards.  He, it
seems, did not give up his attempt to win her.  Somehow or other, he had
taken it into his head that she was speaking of you, though he was
puzzled to know how you had won her heart.  He returned several times to
the house, but his chief occupation seems to have been in abusing you.
This made poor Miss Margaret fancy that you all the time were alive, and
that he knew it; and this, of course, made her still less inclined
towards him.  The less way he made in her affections, the more bitter he
became against you, till at last she had to tell him that his
conversation was disagreeable, and that he must never come to the house
again.  He still did come to the door several times, but the maid told
him that he must not come in, and that she would scream out murder if he
attempted it.  Soon after this, poor old Mrs Sandon fell ill and died,
and poor Miss Margaret was left alone without any one to assist her or
protect her.  I asked her to come and live with me till she could make
arrangements what to do.  She had friends in Shetland, though that is a
long way off, and I could not think what help they could afford her.
They wrote back begging that she would come to them, and that she should
be like their daughter, and they would be parents to her.  Well, against
my advice, she resolved to set off, and away she went.  She kindly wrote
to me once, to tell me of her safe arrival, and she thoughtfully paid
the postage, which was just like her, and very right.  You shall see her
letter, for I do not think she would object to my showing it to you."

I thanked Miss Rundle very much for the account she had given me, but I
could with difficulty reply to her for thinking what I would do.  All
sorts of ideas crowded into my mind.  I scarcely, however, recollected
Charley Iffley and his behaviour.  My thoughts flew off to Shetland, and
to Margaret Troall.  Miss Rundle gave me her letter.  I read it over and
over again.  I made a note of the place from which she dated it.  Miss
Rundle saw me, and asked me if I was going to write to her.

"No; I intend to go to Shetland," I answered promptly.  "I have made up
my mind to that.  After all you have told me, I shall not rest happy
till I have seen her.  Perhaps I shall take up my abode there
altogether.  My father's family come from Shetland, and if I could get
Aunt Bretta to come up there also, we might all be very happy."

I was much pleased by the kind way in which Miss Rundle seemed to
sympathise with me, and entered into all my views and plans, though she
herself had no personal interest in them.  She told me, in course of
conversation, that she had not since seen Charles Iffley, but that she
believed he belonged to some man-of-war or other, at the time of which
she had been speaking, and that she understood he was still in the
service.

My plan once formed, I lost no time in putting it into execution.  That
very evening I found a smack sailing for Portsmouth, and took my passage
by her.  On reaching Southsea, and telling my aunt all that had
occurred, she very much approved of my plans, and encouraged me to set
off at once for Shetland.  She sent all sorts of messages to old
friends, and to the children of old friends; for, as she remarked with a
sigh, it was too probable that many of the parents would have been
called away from the world.

Drawing a further supply of money from the bank, I went up to London by
the coach next morning.  I won't stop to describe how I was bothered and
confused in London, and how heartily I wished myself out of it.  I found
my way to London Bridge, and, after making many inquiries, I reached a
place where there were several Leith smacks moored together.  One was
going to sail the next tide.  I joyfully stepped aboard of her, and
still more happy was I to find myself clear of the Thames and out at
sea.  We were just a week making the passage, which was very well,
considering that we had a foul wind for some hours and had to bring up
in Yarmouth Roads.  From Leith I got on by another vessel to Aberdeen.
In that port I found a regular trader which sailed once a month to
Lerwick, in Shetland.  She was a smack, but not equal in size to the
craft in which I had come down from London to Leith.

We had been out about three days when very heavy thick weather came on,
and a south-westerly gale sprung up, which came sweeping through the
passage between Orkney and Shetland, kicking up a terrific sea.  The
smack behaved very well, but at last all that could be done was to set a
try-sail and to heave her to, and away we drifted we knew not where.  I
had never before been in the North Seas, so I was not accustomed to such
dark gloomy weather--not but what it is bad enough in the English
Channel now and then--still it does not often last so long as it does up
in the north.

Day after day the clouds hung down over our heads, and the wind howled,
and the dark green seas kept leaping up around, as if eager to draw us
down under their angry foaming bosoms.  We had a hard matter to cook our
provisions, and no very easy one to eat them raw or cooked.  Suddenly
the wind shifted and blew as strongly as ever from the eastward, and
then from the northward, and then got back again into the old quarter,
and the master confessed that, for the life of him he could not tell
where he had drifted to.

"On which side of Shetland are we, do you think?" said I.

"I only hope that we are still to the eastward, but at all events I
believe we are well away to the northward of the islands."

"I hope so," I answered.  "But look, captain, what huge and unbroken
seas come rolling in from the west; if we are not to the northward, it
is my opinion that we have got the islands under our lee, and if this
gale is to continue, I would rather have them anywhere else than there."

"So would I, young man; but I have made this trip pretty often, and I
don't think that I can be so far out in my calculation," was the answer.

All I could say was that I hoped that I was wrong and he was right, as,
whichever was the case, there was nothing we could do till the weather
moderated.  On we drove.  I did not like the look of things.  When night
came on I did not turn in, but sat down below out of the cold, ready to
spring on deck in a moment.  I had fastened my money in a belt round my
waist, and kept my shoes ready to kick off, and my jacket loose to throw
easily aside.  I was certain that the vessel would be wrecked.  I felt
no fear for my own life, though I remembered my rash oath and what had
occurred so often before, and the gloomy weather had indeed increased
the conviction that I was under a sort of curse, and that I should have
no rest till it was fulfilled.  I am just saying what I then thought.  I
cannot even now be surprised at the idea gaining such powerful
possession of my mind, while everything that had happened to me had
tended to strengthen it.

Night came on.  Pitchy darkness surrounded the storm-driven little
smack.  The cry of "Breakers! breakers!" and piercing shrieks made me
spring on deck.  At that moment the vessel struck.  The foaming seas
came hissing and roaring up after her.  We were among a dark mass of
rocks; no fabric formed by human hands could have withstood the violence
of those terrific waves.  I held on to the last moment, while the huge
foaming seas washed over my head, almost drowning me, as I clung to the
wreck.  Then I felt the deck quiver and shake, and the stout beams and
timbers were wrenched and torn asunder under my feet, and I was hurled
onward among the broken fragments by a roaring sea, which must have
well-nigh completed the destruction of the craft.  I lost all
consciousness.

My last thought had been that at length the angry sea was about to claim
me as a victim.  There was a hissing, roaring sound in my ears; I felt
myself tossed to and fro, knocked and battered, but I made no attempt,
that I am aware of, to save myself.  At length I opened my eyes.  It was
daylight.  Some men were bending over me.

I heard a voice say, "Here is one who seems to have still some life in
him."  And another person came and took my hand, and after waiting a
minute, said, "Yes, carry him up to the house."  And I was put on a
litter and borne up a steep path among some cliffs; and then across a
high, wild down till I reached a substantial, strongly-built stone
house.  The movement of the litter had a very good effect on me, so that
by the time I reached the house, my chest was relieved from the salt
water I had swallowed, and my senses had completely returned.  I was
therefore saved the ceremony, very common in those days, by which a good
many people were killed, of hanging nearly drowned men up by the heels,
under the idea that the water would more quickly run out of their
mouths.  I was carried into a large boarded room, out of which several
others opened.  In one of those there was a bed.  After my wet clothes
had been taken off me I was placed in bed, carefully wrapped up in
blankets, and directly after some warm drink was brought me.

I remember struggling somewhat when I found my money-belt being removed,
and trying to possess myself of it.

"Never fear, young man; it will be all safe," said a voice.  "We are not
wreckers, and we no longer fancy that you will work us harm because we
help to save your life."

This satisfied me.  I knew that there were honest people as well as
rogues in the world, but I had often met with honest ones, so I hoped
that I had now fallen among such.  One thing, at all events, was very
evident, they seemed anxious to save my life.  After this I fell into a
sound sleep.

It was nine o'clock in the evening when I awoke; but the summer days are
very long in those regions, and even then the evening sun was shining
into the window.  A stout, white-haired, kindly-looking old gentleman
came in to see me with a younger man, whom I took to be his son, and a
servant girl brought in a tray with some tea, and some barley scones,
hot and buttered.  I thought that I had never tasted anything nicer in
my life.

"I hope you are better now after your sleep, young man," said the old
gentleman.  "If fever can be kept off, I think you will do well; but we
have sent for the doctor to look at your hurts.  There are two or three
other people who want his aid."

"What, only two or three escaped out of all those on board the smack?"
said I.

"It is a mercy that any one came on shore alive; and you will say so
when you see the place in day-time," said the younger man.

"We won't speak about it at present," said the old gentleman.  "The less
he talks or hears others talk, the better just now.  We bid you
good-night.  Sleep again, if you can; some one will look in on you to
see how you are going on, now and then."

With these words my hospitable friends left me once more to myself.

I suspected, indeed, that I should be better for a doctor's care, for I
felt that I had been bruised and battered dreadfully; my head had been
bandaged, and when I tried to stir I found all my limbs sore and
stiff,--indeed, it was not without great pain that I could move either
an arm or a leg.  I slept through most of the night.  When I did awake,
I began to wonder where I had got to, for the old gentleman had remained
in the room so short a time, that I had not been able to ask any
questions.

I had little doubt that I had been cast away on the coast of Shetland,
but whether on the northern or southern end I could not tell, any more
than I could who was my kind host.

The next day the doctor arrived.  He had ridden over from Lerwick, with
only the rest of half-an-hour for his steed, he said; so I knew that I
must be at some distance from that town, and yet on the big island
called the mainland.  He dressed my wounds and bruises, and told me that
one or two of my ribs were broken, but that I might consider myself
fortunate that matters were no worse; and remarked that he had no doubt
I had lived a prudent, careful life, as I was perfectly free from all
signs of fever, which would not otherwise have been the case; and then
giving me some bottles of medicine to take, he left me to look after his
other patients.  He spent two or three days in the house, for the
islands are generally so healthy that there was not much demand for his
services elsewhere.

One of my poor shipmates died, I was told, from his hurts.  I rapidly
got better.  Besides the old gentleman and his son and the doctor, an
old lady looked in now and then to see me.  She was a very neat, pretty
old woman, so cheerful and cheery, always having something pleasant to
say, so that she contributed much to raise my spirits.  I will say that
I was most thankful for all the mercies which had been shown me, and for
my preservation from so great a danger.

At last I was pronounced well enough and strong enough to get up and
appear in public.  A barber, who was going his rounds, came in, and
shaved me and cut my hair, and my head and face were all to rights, so
that I looked as well as ever, only my ribs hurt me a little, and my
limbs felt somewhat stiff.

The old gentleman came to my room when I was ready.  "Take my arm," said
he kindly; "you will find it rather strange walking at first, and your
knees will shake a little."

I could not refuse his kind offer, though I thought that I could have
walked very well by myself.  He led me into the large hall, and there,
seated by a window at the further end, looking out on the sea, I
observed two young women.  One was dressed in black, the other in some
sober colour or other.  They were both at the moment bending down over
their knitting, and talking in a low voice to each other, so that they
did not observe our entrance.

We had got three-quarters of the way across the room, and the old
gentleman was giving me a chair to sit down on, when the noise it made
over the floor caused them to look up.  There sat one I had so long
thought of, whom I had come to search for, Margaret Troall.

She looked at me in a strange, bewildered way, still she knew me, and
yet she could not believe her senses.  She tried to rise from her chair
to come towards me, but something seemed to keep her back.  She drew her
breath quickly, as if she would have wished to have spoken, but could
not.  I felt that I ought to speak first.

"They told you I was dead, Miss Margaret," said I, and I know my voice
trembled very much, and I know that had I not leant on the chair I
should have fallen.  "They were mistaken; I went to Plymouth only
lately, and found you were no longer there; and when I discovered that
you had gone north, I came here to seek you."

She recovered herself while I was speaking, and rising from her seat,
came up and gave me her hand.  I do not say that there was anything very
extraordinary in the action, but I know that it made me very happy.  Her
friends at first looked very much astonished; but a few words served to
explain matters, and then they were doubly glad that they had had the
opportunity of being of so much service to an old friend of their young
relative.

I found that the name of my host, the uncle of Miss Troall, was David
Angus, and that the place where the smack had been wrecked was in Saint
Magnus Bay, in the parish of North Morven.  My friends were the holders
of one of the largest farms in the district, and lived in a very
comfortable, though what people in the south would call a rough way.  I
am not going to talk of all that passed between Margaret and me.  I
should not have believed that she had thought so much of me as she had
done, it seemed; but our first meeting had been under peculiar
circumstances.  She had seen me mourning deeply for a lost relative, and
she had discovered thus that I had a tender heart, so I may venture to
say, and now my coming all the way north to look for her showed her that
she had made no little impression on it.

Well, all that has passed and gone.  I got every day better and better,
and was soon able to walk out with her along the tops of the high
cliffs, and to visit the wild scenes to be found especially in that part
of the island.  I especially remember one place we visited, called the
Navis Grind.  It is a gap in the cliffs formed by the whole force of the
western ocean rolling against them during a succession of heavy gales,
age after age, till vast fragments of the rock have been forced in for
hundreds of yards over the downs, and now lie like the fragments of some
ruined city scattered over the plain.  We delighted in returning to
those scenes of wild grandeur, because they contrasted so strongly with
our own quiet happiness.

This was only the second time in my life that I had enjoyed what might
be properly called idleness.  The first was during my short stay with
Aunt Bretta, and then I confess that I often did at times feel weary
from not knowing what to do with myself.  Now I never felt anything like
weariness, I was too happy to spend the greater part of the day in the
society of Margaret.  Sometimes I used to walk by myself over the downs
by the edge of the cliffs, and at others visit the different parts of
his farm with my host, and assist him to look after his cattle and
horses and sheep, which were scattered far and wide over the peninsula.

I have scarcely mentioned his daughter Minna.  She was a fair-haired,
smiling, good-natured lassie, who was contented with her lot, because
she had sense enough to discover that it was a very happy one.

There was one person, however, who would, I soon with some pain
discovered, have been better pleased had I not come to the islands.
That was John Angus, my host's son.  He did not treat me uncivilly or
unkindly, but I saw that it cost him an effort to be as cordial as the
rest of his family.  He was a good-natured, frank, kind-hearted man,
whom under other circumstances I should have hoped to have made my
friend.  I cannot but think, too, that in time he would have won
Margaret's regard, and he was certainly a man to have made any woman
happy.

In two weeks or so I was Margaret's acknowledged suitor, or rather, I
may say, her affianced husband.  I was so happy that I thought sorrow
could never again come near me.  Now Margaret herself reminded me that I
was a Shetlander,--indeed, as I was born at sea, no other people would
claim me,--and that I ought to try and find out some of my family.  I
talked the subject over with Mr Angus.  He remembered many of them, but
when he came to consider, every one of my near relations were gone.
Some cousins of my father's were the nearest remaining, and then there
were several of Aunt Bretta's old friends, the companions of her youth
whom she wished me to see.  John Angus volunteered to accompany me, and
he provided two strong, shaggy little ponies for our journey.

We started away one morning soon after daybreak over the wild tracks,
the only substitute for roads through the islands in those days, and
crossed into the chief part of the mainland by a causeway so narrow that
I could have thrown a biscuit across it.  On one side of us was Rowe
Sound, and on the other Hagraseter Voe, a long, narrow voe running out
of Yell Sound.  It would be difficult to describe the wild, and often
beautiful scenery through which we passed.  Long, deep voes, full of
inlets and indentations, with high heathery hills on either side, was
the most characteristic feature, and quiet, little inland lochs, with
wildfowl resting on their bosoms, was another, and then high rocky
cliffs, the habitation of innumerable sea-birds, and hundreds of green
islands and rocks scattered about on every side on the surface of the
blue ocean.

John Angus did his best to point out to me the various points of
interest we passed.  Among the most curious were the Pictie towers,
little round edifices built with rough stone, beautifully put together,
with passages inside winding up to the top without steps.  They were
built by a race who inhabited those islands long before the time of
which history gives any account.  Whence they came, or how they
departed, no one knows.  Every hamlet throughout Shetland is called a
toun.  The cottages composing them are very far from attractive-looking
edifices, generally built of mud, of one storey, and thatched; with a
midden on one side of the door, and a pool of a very doubtful colour and
contents on the other.  The insides were often large and clean, and tidy
enough, and in such I found many of my aunt's friends residing.

Wherever I went, I was hospitably received, and I delivered my messages,
and rode on.  I cannot say that my cousins appeared very highly
delighted at seeing me, which was natural enough, considering that till
I made my appearance, and announced myself, they had never heard there
was such a person in existence.  However, Aunt Bretta was remembered by
all her contemporaries with affection.  I should have enjoyed my visits
more had I not been anxious to return to Hillswick.

We were altogether five days away, and in that period, sometimes by
means of boats, and sometimes on the backs of ponies, and at others on
our own feet, we visited the greater portion of the islands.  I often
felt that had I been born among them, I should never have desired to
leave their quiet shores, and more than once contemplated the
probability of spending the remainder of my days there.  I spoke my mind
on the subject to John Angus.

"Do, Weatherhelm, do," he answered; "we shall be glad to have you among
us: but you've heard the old notion we islanders have, that he who is
saved from drowning by any one of us is certain to work us ill?"

"I've heard of the idea not only as held by the people of Shetland, but
by those of many other countries," I answered.  "Like many other ideas,
to my mind, it is not only false, but wrong and wicked.  Depend upon it,
the idea was invented by those who wanted an excuse for killing the
unfortunate people wrecked on their coast in order to obtain their
property."

"That may be," said Angus; "still, for my part, I cannot help believing
that it is in some respects true.  However, sometimes a man may work
another harm without intending it.  But come along, put your nag into a
trot, we have a good many miles of this heavy peat land to get over
before we reach home."

It was not till some time afterwards that I knew what John Angus meant
by his remarks.  He volunteered to take the ponies round to the stable,
while I went into the house.  It was worth going away for a few days for
the pleasure of being received as I was by Margaret.  I thought her
looking more sweet and lovely than ever.  As I said before, I am not
going to repeat all that occurred between us.  The day was fixed for our
marriage, and friends from far and near were invited to it.  They came,
some by water and others on ponies; the women on pack-saddles, with
their head-gear in baskets hung over their arms.  Mr Angus had told me
that he hoped, since I was to become his nephew, that I would live on
with him and help him in his croft, as there was work enough both for me
and his son.  John, indeed, had a mind to go and see something of the
world, and was proposing a trip to Aberdeen, if not to Edinburgh, before
the winter.  He would be away, at all events, during the winter, so that
my services would be of great value.

This proposal exactly suited my wishes.  I was certain that Margaret
would be happy with her friends, and I should find plenty of the sort of
employment which suited me.  I should be out of doors during all the
hours of daylight, and I knew that I should be handy in the various
occupations in which the family passed their time during the long
evenings of winter.  Well, then, Margaret and I were married, and the
guests who had welcomed me back as a countryman to Shetland, took their
departure, and we all settled down into a very regular, happy state of
existence.  John Angus went away to Scotland, and I took his place as
his father's assistant.  The winter came round pretty quickly, and
though we had fogs and damp sometimes, I did not find the weather nearly
so cold as I expected.  Even in mid-winter, with a south-westerly wind,
it was always quite warm; but when the wind shifted round and came out
of the north-east or east, it was cold enough.  Still there was very
little ice, and not often much snow.  As I have often remarked when
wandering over the globe, every country has its advantages, and those
far northern islands have theirs.  They have their long days in summer,
and bright skies, and fragrant wild-flowers, and fine wild scenery, and,
thanks to the hot waters of the Gulf Stream which wash their shores, a
tolerably temperate climate all the year round.  The winter passed
rapidly away.  I could often scarcely believe in my happiness, after all
the hardships and dangers I had undergone, and I am afraid that I was
not sufficiently grateful for it.  One thing I felt, that Margaret did
not repent the choice she had made.  Though I had had rather more
education than generally falls to the lot of those of my class, I knew
that I was but a rough, untutored seaman, and so I did my utmost to be
tender and gentle to my wife, and to study how I best could please her
in everything.  I did not forget my old friend Miss Rundle,--my wife and
I wrote her a long letter between us, fall of all sorts of fun; we also
took good care to pay the postage.  Of course, also, we wrote to Aunt
Bretta.  She sent back a letter in return, hoping that we would soon
come south to see her.  We expected John Angus in the spring, but he did
not return.  He wrote instead, to say that he had got some employment in
the south, which suited him for the present, and that he was very happy.

A whole year passed away.  During the second winter, I thought that my
wife, who had been so long accustomed to the soft air of Devonshire, was
suffering from the long continuance of damp fogs.  While I was balancing
in my mind whether I ought not to take her south, I received another
letter from Aunt Bretta.  She told me that she was quite sickening to
see me and my wife, and that my uncle hoped to be able to find some
employment on shore which would suit my taste.  When I laid the proposal
before my wife, she at once acceded to it.  "I am afraid," said she,
"that as long as we remain here, we keep poor John away from his family.
If we go south, he will return home."  David Angus, and the old lady,
and our kind-hearted cousin, were most unwilling to part with us, but we
had written to Aunt Bretta to say that we were coming, and we could not
again change our plans.  About the middle of June we sailed in a smack
bound direct for Leith, and once more I found myself on salt water.

CHAPTER NINE.

VOYAGE IN THE SMACK--GALE SPRINGS UP--WASHED OVERBOARD--SAVED ON A
SPAR--DREADFUL FEARS FOR MY WIFE'S SAFETY--THE KIND-HEARTED FISHERMAN--
FIND THE SMACK--ACCOUNT OF HER ESCAPE--JOURNEY ON LAND--COACH UPSET--
AGAIN PRESERVED--REACH HOME--OLD JERRY AGAIN--HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE
BEARS.

I was walking the deck one night, while my wife was below, and thinking
of the events of my past life, when the recollection of my rash oath
came across me like a thunder-clap in summer, when just before the whole
sky overhead has appeared of the purest blue.  "Is my dreadful fate
still to pursue me?"  I thought.  "Rather than she should be torn from
me, let me perish with her."  The weather was fine, the wind was light
and fair, and there was not the slightest cause for any apprehension of
danger.  Had I been by myself, such an idea would not, I believe, have
crossed my mind; but now that I had so precious a being under my charge,
I was timid as a mother with her first-born child.  At last I went
below, and the night passed away in quietness.  The next morning was
bright and lovely as ever an early summer has had to exhibit, and I felt
ashamed of my thoughts of the previous evening, as if I had been
ungrateful for the blessings I had received, and mistrustful of God's
merciful providence.  Still the ideas I had entertained came back again
during the forenoon, and haunted me at times throughout the day.  Had I
been able to speak to my wife on the subject, I doubt not I should have
relieved my mind; but I was afraid of frightening her and making her
nervous, so I kept them to myself.  As the evening drew on, dark clouds
were seen banking up on the horizon.  I watched them with an anxiety I
had never before experienced at sea, for I had never before been on the
ocean with a freight I prized so much.  They continued rapidly to
increase, and before night closed in had formed a thick canopy overhead,
while dark heaving seas came rolling in towards us across the full width
of the German Ocean, and the increasing breeze moaned and whistled in
our rigging.  The smack heeled over to the force of the wind till her
lee-bulwarks were under water, but still the master was unwilling to
shorten sail.  We were on a lee shore, and he was anxious to haul off
sufficiently to make his passage good for the Firth of Forth.  We might
even then have run back for the Moray Firth, where, as the wind was from
the southward of east, we should have got under the lee of the land; but
then we might have been detained there, very certainly for many days and
perhaps for several weeks, so he resolved, at all hazards, to keep the
sea.  Under a close-reefed mainsail and storm-jib, the little vessel
continued her course, looking bravely up to the increasing gale.  Still,
at times she plunged heavily into the seas, and it often seemed, as I
stood on her deck, as if she would never rise again above them.  I sat,
while I could, by my wife in the cabin, to try and comfort and protect
her; but I could not help rushing on deck every now and then to
ascertain how matters were proceeding.  The report, however, I had to
give when I returned below was anything but encouraging.  I had no idea
of deceiving people, as some persons do, when danger is threatening.  I
am certain that the more a person can contemplate the possibility of
danger, the better able they will be to encounter it when it comes, if
they have employed the meantime in reflection and in considering the
best means to meet it.

We were off the Scotch coast, somewhere between Stonehaven and Montrose,
I fancy, when the gale came down upon us with greater force than ever,
and the old master thought if he could get the try-sail on the vessel,
as we had by this time gained a considerable offing, that he should be
able to heave her to and weather it out till it blew over.  As he was
about to shift the sails the wind lulled a little, and once more he
hoped that he should be able to hold on his course.  He forgot that all
this time, though he was certainly getting more to the southward, the
vessel was also drifting nearer and nearer inshore.  At last the gale,
as if it had rested merely to gain strength, breezed up again with
greater fury than ever.  I was below at the time.  "We must get the
try-sail on her, my lads," I heard the old man sing out.  Securing my
wife to a sofa in the cabin, I sprang on deck to lend a hand, for I knew
that all the strength that could be obtained would be required, and that
every moment of delay added to our danger.  Many as were the gales I had
been in, I had never beheld a more terrific-looking scene than that by
which I now found myself surrounded.  Vivid flashes of lightning every
now and then revealed the dark wall-like waves which rose up with their
crests of foam on every side around us, and threatened to engulf the
little craft struggling helplessly among them.  Still no one stopped a
moment to think of all this--the work to be done was to get the mainsail
off her and to set the try-sail.  I thought at the time that we were
much nearer inshore than the old master fancied.  The try-sail was
almost set, and we were hauling out the sheet, when I heard the old man
sing out, "Hold on, my lads! hold on!  Here comes a sea which will give
her a shake."  On it came.  I was to leeward.  I felt myself torn from
the rope to which I held, and my feet lifted off the deck.  The wild
waves surrounded me.  There was a tumult in my ears.  With horror and
agony I discovered that the sea had carried me overboard.  I shrieked
out instinctively for help, though I knew that none could be afforded.
In vain I struggled to regain the vessel.

My real condition presented itself with terrific clearness to my mind.
For my own life I cared not, but I thought of my wife--of her agony and
despair when she discovered that I was lost.  I would have given worlds
to have got once more on board that little sea-tossed bark.  I was
always a good swimmer.  Even amid those tossing waves I found that I
could keep my head above water.  Still the unequal struggle could not
have lasted long, when at the moment I was losing the dim outline of the
little vessel in the darkness, I found myself thrown against some
floating object.  A hope that I might possibly preserve my life sprung
up in my bosom.  I grasped the object, and found that it was part of the
mast and top of a large vessel.  I clambered upon it and held fast while
I recovered my breath.  Though it was violently tossed about by the
seas, which threatened every moment to sweep me off from it, still I
held on.  My first thought was to endeavour to discover how far off was
the smack, on board which was all I prized in life.  I could nowhere see
her.  I have heard of people's hair turning white in a single night from
grief--I felt that mine might have done so from the agony of mind I
endured.  Would the smack weather out the gale? or would my dear wife
survive the shock when she discovered that I had been so suddenly torn
from her?  "I have often been punished, and justly, but this is the most
severe punishment of all," I thought to myself.  A voice whispered in my
ear, "Curse God, and die,"--the same voice which had whispered the same
words into the ear of the Patriarch Job many ages ago, and has been
whispering the like into the ears of thousands of human beings ever
since.  "Oh God, have mercy on me and support me!"  I ejaculated, and
the tempter fled from me.

Scarcely able to breathe from the dense masses of spray surrounding me,
and from the waves which kept continually washing over me, I still clung
on to the wreck.  I fancied that the shattered mast was being floated
onward.  I do not remember now what reason I had for supposing so.  It
contributed, at all events, to keep up my hope of being ultimately
rescued.  How slowly and painfully the hours passed by!  Often I thought
that, from very exhaustion and cold, I must be swept from my hold.  At
length, as I was looking upwards at the sky to try and discover any
break in the clouds which might afford me an indication that the gale
was abating, I beheld the first faint streaks of dawn appearing in the
eastward.  The clouds seemed to lift like a thick curtain to let in the
light of day.  I looked round towards the land; I could distinguish its
dim outline through the darkness which still hung over it.  This
convinced me that the mast must have drifted much nearer than when I
first got hold of it.  This fact, however, tended to increase my anxiety
for the fate of the smack.  What if she has been driven on the rocks,
and, as would probably be the case, all on board have perished!  "Oh,
why, why was not I allowed to remain with my dear wife, to perish with
her, or to be the means of saving her!"  I exclaimed, in the agony of my
spirit.  The intensity of my feelings almost overcame me.  As daylight
increased, I saw that the summer gale had considerably lessened, and
every minute the wind seemed to be going down.  I could now clearly make
out the shore, the yellow sands, with their fringe of dark rocks, over
which the surf was breaking with almost unabated fury.  "What chance of
escaping with my life will there be, if I am drifted in among those wild
rocks?"  I thought to myself.  Now there could be no doubt that I was
drifting, and rapidly too, towards the shore.  With an anxious, piercing
gaze, I looked round to the southward to see if I could discover any
signs of the smack, half dreading to find her driven in among the rocks,
yet still praying and hoping that she might be riding safely at anchor
behind some sheltering reef, or within some little harbour on the coast.
Not a sign of her could I discover.  I looked seaward.  Two or three
sails were seen, rising and falling in the offing, but too far off to
allow me to hope that she could be one of them.  On drove the mast; its
course was altered, and it was evidently drifting along shore to the
southward.  I judged that I was not more than three or four hundred
fathoms from the breakers.  I discovered that by climbing a little
further on the mast, I could stand upright without its turning over with
me.  Finding this, I untied a silk handkerchief I had about my neck, and
waved it around my head.  I continued waving, hoping that some one would
see my signal.  I waited anxiously, looking along the shore.  At so
early an hour few people were out.  At last the head of a man appeared
above a sand-hill.  I waved more vehemently, and shouted, forgetting
that my voice could not be heard above the roar of the breakers.  Soon I
saw him standing on the top of the hill, and looking through a spy-glass
at me, and then he waved his hand in return, and, pointing to the
southward, ran on.  Directly afterwards I saw two or three other people
running in the same direction, carrying oars over their shoulders, and a
boat-hook.  I guessed that they were making for some little harbour or
sandy cove, where their boats were drawn up.  I prayed that they might
come to my aid quickly, for every instant the wreck of the mast drove
nearer and nearer to the rocks.  Still I cannot say that I felt much
doubt about being saved after having already been so mercifully
preserved during the night from dangers so terrific.  Yet it appeared an
age before I saw a boat darting out from an opening in the rocks.
Putting her head to the seas, she dashed up towards me.  She had not
come a minute too soon.

"Stand by, mon! stand by to leap aboard!"  I heard a voice sing out, as
the bow of the boat came up close to where I was hanging on.

I did not require a second order; at the same time, my limbs were so
stiff and benumbed that I could scarcely have obeyed, had not two of the
men in the bow of the boat caught me by the collar, and hauled me on
board.

"Noo, round wi' her, laddies! round wi' her! we'll hear a' aboot it by
and by," cried the man at the helm.

The boat was at the time scarcely half-a-dozen fathoms from the surf,
and any sea rolling in, and breaking sooner than usual, might have
rolled her over and over and drowned all hands.  With hearty tugs the
men who had so bravely rescued me pulled the boat round and out to sea,
while the mast was directly afterwards carried among the surf, and
hurled round and round, till it was cast in fragments on the rocks.  I
shuddered when I saw what my fate might have been.  There was little
time to exchange many words with the fishermen before the boat was
pulled into a little sandy cove, and they all, springing out, ran her up
high and dry on the beach.

"You maun be weet, laddie," said the old master of the boat, helping me
out of her with the aid of two of the other men.  "Come up to my hoose,
and we'll put dry duds on ye, and then you'll tell us how ye came to be
floating on that bit of wreck there.  She maun hae been a large ship ye
belonged to, I'm thinking, and ye were the only one saved? it's sad to
think of it."

Under some circumstances I should have been amused by the eagerness of
the old man to hear the account I had to give, at the same time that his
kind heart prompted him not to fatigue me by asking questions.  I was
still more anxious to know if he could give me any account of the smack.
As we were going up to the cottage I described her exactly, but he
shook his head.

"We were up late last night, looking along the shore on account of the
gale, and we were not out so early this morning as usual," was the
reply.

Having satisfied the curiosity of my host with an account of my own
adventure, I entreated that, as soon as my clothes were dried, I might
be allowed to proceed to the southward along the coast, to try and gain
tidings of the smack.  My hopes revived within me when the fisherman
told me that we were not far from the mouth of the Firth of Tay, and
that perhaps the smack might have been driven in there.

"Still ye should know that there is a danger there which has proved
fatal to many a tall ship," said the old man.  "It is called the
Inchcape Rock.  There's a bell made fast to it, which, whenever a gale
is blowing, tolls by the tossing of the seas as they drive against it.
You've heard tell, maybe, of the pirate, who, in the wantonness of his
wickedness, carried the bell away, and who, although another was placed
in its stead, was lost, with all his companions, on that very rock.
Heaven finds out sinners of high and low degree, at some time or other,
however they may endeavour to escape its vengeance."

I thought to myself, "True, indeed, is that.  How often have I been
found out and punished for my one great sin!"

Ill and weak as I was, I insisted, as I had had some food on starting,
to proceed along the coast to try and obtain tidings of the smack.  If
she had not foundered, she must have been cast on shore or taken shelter
in some harbour at the mouth of the Tay.

"No, no," said the old man; "young blood fancies that it can do
anything, but I tell ye that ye have no strength to go on now without
rest.  I'll send my laddies along the coast, both north and south, and
they will make inquiries and bring back any tidings they can obtain; you
will have news of the vessel more speedily in that way than any other."

Still I insisted on putting on my own clothes and setting off; but when
I attempted to get up, I found that I could scarcely walk across the
room, much less could I hope to trudge over the links, and rough rocks
and sand which lined the shore along which I wished to proceed.  I was
obliged, therefore, to consent to go to bed, and to try and sleep.  At
first I thought that would be impossible, but my old sailor habits
triumphed over the anxiety I felt, and the rest I so much needed came to
me.

In less than four hours I awoke.  I found myself alone; so I sprang up
and put on my clothes, resolved that nothing should stop me from
proceeding on my journey.  I felt far stronger than I could have
expected.

"Stay till my laddies come in, and hear what account they have to give
ye," said the kind-hearted old fisherman, making me sit down once more
in the porch in front of his cottage.

The roof was the bow of a small boat, which made a good shelter from the
sun, and the supporting-posts the jawbones of a whale which had been
stranded on the shore.

That I might have something to distract my mind he gave me a stick that
I might fashion it to support my steps as I walked along.  When I had
cut it to the required length I sprang up, saying I would go on some
little way, at all events, begging his son to follow me; when we saw the
young man approaching the cottage from the north, I ran forward to meet
him.

"Have you heard anything of the smack?"  I inquired, in breathless
haste.

"No; not a sign of her.  There was a big ship lost with all hands--not a
soul escaped--in the early part of the night; but often when the big
ship goes down the small one swims; ye ken that, mon," was the answer.

Although he had been out for some hours, he insisted on accompanying me
when he found that I had resolved on proceeding, till we should fall in
with his brothers.  The old man gave me his blessing, and the old wife
and the rest of the family parted most kindly with me--they were all so
much interested in the account I had given them of myself.  As to
receiving any remuneration, they would not hear of it.

We toiled on over the links; sometimes I thought that my knees would
have given way under me.  At last the old weather-beaten tower of
Broughty Castle appeared in sight, the ancient guardian to the entrance
of the Tay.  "We'll just sit down here till the ferry-boat is ready to
cross," said my companion, throwing himself on the grass bank under the
crumbling walls.  "Maybe my brother will be coming over just now, and he
will tell us what he has learned."

I suggested that the smack might have run up to Dundee, but he said that
was not in the least likely.  If she had come in there she would have
brought up off Broughty itself.  We made inquiries, before sitting down,
of some fishermen who had been on the shore all the morning, and
certainly no vessel, they said, answering the description of the smack
had come in.  At any other time my eye would have dwelt with pleasure on
the scenery which is presented by the beautiful estuary of the Tay, but
now I could only think of the object of my search.  I was leaning back
on the grass, hoping to recover strength to proceed, when my companion
jumped up and ran down toward the water's edge.

"What news, Sandy! what news do ye bring?"

"The vessel is safe," was the answer.  "Thank Heaven for its mercy!"  I
ejaculated; and springing up and running towards the young fisherman,
"Tell me, lad, tell me, how is my wife!"

"The puir young leddy was taken very bad--very bad indeed, when she
found that you had gone overboard, and all on board thought that she
could not live.  No one could give her any comfort, for no one thought
you could have escaped.  The rest on board, indeed, had soon to think of
themselves.  The vessel drove past the Inchcape Rock, and all heard the
tolling of the bell, and believed that they were going to strike on it.

"While others were bemoaning their fate, and crying out for mercy, and
expecting to be drowned, she sat up and seemed to have forgotten the
cause of her own grief.

"`Ah,' she said with a smile, `what makes you miserable, gives me joy.
You fear death.  I look forward to it as a happiness, because I shall
soon be joined to him who has been torn from me.'

"Ay, sir, the bell tolled louder and louder, and each toll that it gave
made her heart beat quicker with joy, while it drove the life-blood away
from the hearts of those who feared death as the greatest of evils.  On
drifted the vessel--darkness was around them--still that solemn bell
kept tolling and tolling, but yet the expected shock was not felt.  The
bell tolled on, but the sounds grew fainter and fainter, and the master
told them that they had no longer cause to fear, and might thank Heaven
for their preservation, for that he knew where they were, and could take
them into a port in safety.  Well, but of your wife, I know that you
will want to hear."

"Yes! yes!"  I exclaimed, "tell me how is she--where is she!"  We wore
all the time the young fisherman was speaking hurrying down towards the
ferry-boat.

"That is just what I was about to tell ye," he answered, with the
deliberate way in which the inhabitants of that part of Scotland of his
rank generally speak.  "The young leddy, they told me, no sooner heard
that the vessel was in safety, than she gave way to a sorrow which it
was pitiful to witness.  They tried to comfort her, but she was not to
be comforted.  She had gone off into a sort of trance when the vessel
brought up this morning under Saint Ann's Head.

"The master was thinking about putting to sea when I got on board.  He
and all the people were very much surprised to hear that you had
escaped; but the difficulty seemed to be to break the news to your wife.
The master promised not to sail till you appeared, and I promised to
come and hurry you on."

"Thank ye, thank ye, my kind friend!"  I exclaimed, shaking him by the
hand.  "But my wife--tell me about my wife.  How did she bear the sudden
reaction?"

"It did her all the good in the world," he answered cheerfully.  "The
old master, who is a canny man, went down into the cabin and began to
talk of the wonderful things which had occurred to his knowledge at
sea--how people had been kept alive floating on a spar for a couple of
days, and how others had swam a dozen miles or more, or been washed from
the deck of one vessel right aboard another, and fallen overboard, and
been picked up floating on a grating, or an oar, by a vessel coming up
astern hours afterwards.

"Suddenly the young lady lifted herself up, showing, that though she had
appeared to be asleep, she had been listening to every word that had
been said.

"`Captain,' said she, `in mercy tell me whether you believe that my
husband's life has been preserved by any of the means you speak of.  Do
not deceive me.  Do not keep me in doubt.'

"`Not for all the world would I deceive you, young leddy,' said the
master; `I will tell you what I believe to be the truth, that your
husband got floated on shore last night, and that he is not a great way
off, to prove to you that what I say is true.'

"Oh, did not she cry out with joy and thankfulness, and then the old
master told me what he had said, and charged me to come on here as fast
as I could to bring you on board."

My two young friends insisted on accompanying me all the way back to the
vessel, about three miles along the southern shores of the Firth, and
thankful indeed was I for their support.  It showed me how an old man
must feel when his strength is failing him, and he has a long journey to
perform.  It taught me always to have more compassion for advancing age
than I had before been inclined to feel.

I cannot describe the unspeakable joy it was to my wife and me to meet
each other again, after the dreadful anxiety we had both of us
experienced, and the dangers we had gone through.  I was unwilling to
trust her again on the treacherous ocean, even for the short passage
round to Leith; but she entreated me not to be so mistrustful of
Providence, who had been so merciful to us, and urged me to continue the
voyage.  I felt at the time that she was right, and that, instead of
considering myself as under a curse, I ought to acknowledge that each
time I had been shipwrecked, I had received a special mark of God's
favour, for my life had been preserved, while so many others of my
fellow-creatures had lost theirs.  Instead, therefore, of taking her on
shore, and going on to Saint Andrews, as I had at first proposed doing,
I agreed to remain on board the smack.  I could not sufficiently thank
the two young fishermen for the labour and trouble they had taken for my
sake.  They laughed when I talked about it.

"Hoot! it's just nothing.  We ken by your looks that you would do the
same for us, so say no more about it, mon," was the answer they both
gave.  I hope they were right in the favourable opinion they had formed
of me.

In the afternoon, the weather having completely moderated, we sailed.
What a contrast did the next night afford to the previous one!  The
stars came out, and the moon shone forth, playing brightly on the
tranquil waters, just rippled over with a light breeze, which sent us
along smoothly on our course.  Margaret sat on the deck with me,
watching the scene with a delighted eye and thankful heart.  Our
conversation was far too solemn for repetition.

"Oh, Willand, never let us again doubt God's mercy and kindness towards
us.  At this hour last night how stormy and dark was the ocean; how full
of anguish and misery were our hearts; how utterly hopeless did
everything appear; not a gleam burst forth to give us consolation!  We
were violently torn from each other, it seemed, never to be united again
on earth, neither of us knowing what had become of the other; and now
see how the face of nature smiles!  Once more we are united, and all our
prospects appear bright and happy."

Thus we talked on, and, thankful for the present, did not dream that
storms of adversity might yet be in store for us, yet not sent without a
gracious and merciful object to try and improve our hearts.

We reached Leith in safety, and as neither of us had before been in
Edinburgh, we spent some days there to view that beautiful and
interesting city.  Such it was even in those days; but though it has
lost somewhat in picturesque effect, it has since then been greatly
improved.

It may seem strange that a sailor should be afraid of trusting himself
at sea; but reason as I might, I could not bring myself to take my wife
to the south by water.  I therefore prepared to convey her to London by
coach, and from thence to Portsmouth.  The expense was very great; but I
promised her that I would toil hard in whatever occupation I undertook
to make it up, and at last she acceded to my wishes.  We calculated that
we should be about a week or ten days getting to London, for those were
times when even the coaches on the great northern road went very
leisurely along, and it was not for some time after that they were
superseded by the fast London and Edinburgh mail.  Times have indeed
changed with all of us.

We left Edinburgh one morning at daybreak, and proceeded south to
Berwick, where we stopped.  Our next stage was York.  There we rested
the greater part of the day, for my wife seemed very much fatigued, and
when I saw how fine the weather continued, I began to repent that I had
not gone, as she wished, by sea.  I had placed her inside, while I went
on the top of the coach.  I observed that our fat old coachman, who,
although it was summer weather, was muffled up in a greatcoat, with a
red comforter up to his eyes, whenever we stopped to change horses went
into the bar of the roadside inn and took a pretty stiff glass of brandy
and water to keep out the damp, as he told his passengers.  At last four
rather frisky horses were brought out and harnessed to the coach.

"Steady now, Mr Currycomb; we have some ugly hills to go up and down,"
remarked one of the passengers who had watched his drinking proceedings
with some little anxiety.

"Oh, never fear me, sir," answered the old man, in a thick, husky voice.
"I've driven this road, man and boy, for the last fifty years, and I
should think I know how to take a coach along it without anybody telling
me how to do it, do you see.  If I thinks it's best to trot down a hill,
why I'll do it, and no one shall tell me not.  That's what I've got to
say."

I have frequently met the same sort of obstinate characters among
seamen, the very men who manage to get their ships cast away; but I
fancied that they were not to be found among those who live among the
civilising influences of the shore.

For some time we went on pretty well, though now and then the overloaded
coach going down a hill rocked to and fro pretty violently.  When we
stopped the next time, a gentleman who had gone in the inside, because
there was no place on the outside, said that he had never been
accustomed to travel inside, and that it made him very ill, and asked if
any gentleman would be willing to change places with him, and that, as
he had already paid his fare, it would not put anybody who would so
oblige him to further cost.

I at once said, that as my wife was inside, I should be very happy to be
the means of accommodating him, so he mounted on the top of the coach,
and I joined Margaret inside.  Away we went once more rattling along
over the road.  The gentleman, I found, whose seat I had got had no idea
that the coachman was the worse for liquor, but fancied that the rocking
of the coach, which I had observed so palpably from the outside, was
only the usual motion, and that he would be free from it outside.
Suddenly I felt that we were going on much faster than usual.

"What is the matter?" exclaimed Margaret, as clouds of dust arose on
each hand, and we saw people starting aside and looking anxiously after
us as we were whirled along.  "Oh, the horses have run away!"

We heard the passengers hallooing and shouting to the coachman to stop
his horses, to pull up; but he either did not heed them or could not
obey them.  On we dashed at a furious rate.  We saw by the appearance of
some small, red-brick houses, scattered here and there, that we were
approaching a town.  I placed myself by Margaret's side, and held her
tightly down.

On we whirled.  Round went the huge vehicle with a swing.  There was a
terrific crash.  We felt the coach dragged some little way; groans and
shrieks and cries arose around us.  The coach stopped.  The traces had
been cut, and the horses galloped off.  I looked with intense anxiety at
my wife's countenance.  She was pale, but she assured me that she was
unhurt.  I had held her firmly, so as to break the shock when the coach
went over.

People came to help us out, and my wife was conducted into a house close
at hand, to which the owner invited us.  But dreadful indeed was the
scene which met my eyes as I glanced round over the wreck of the coach.
The gentleman who had just changed places with me was lying dead on the
pavement, with three or four other passengers; the old coachman lay a
corpse, mangled horribly by the heels of the horses, over which he had
been thrown, and not one of the passengers had escaped some severe
injury; while the poor guard had his arm broken, and his horn doubled up
under him.

I went into the house, and sat down.  "Wife," said I, "you are right;
God watches over us at sea as well as on land, and accidents may occur
on shore as well as on the ocean.  Why He has thought fit to preserve
us, while others have been allowed to perish, I know not; I can only
take the cup of blessing and be thankful.  I will never again attempt to
escape out of His hand by endeavouring to avoid a possible danger."

The gentleman and his wife were very much interested in the account
Margaret and I gave of ourselves, and invited us to remain a whole day
with them, that she might recover from her fatigue.  It is one of the
pleasantest things in life to thus receive unexpected kindness from
strangers, who can have no thought or hope of recompense.  It is
satisfactory at the time, and makes one think better of the common human
nature which unites us to our fellow-beings.  I told our new friend of
all the shipwrecks I had suffered.

"Ah! there are as many on shore, depend upon it, as on the ocean," he
answered.  "On shore they are the worst, because they occur generally
through our own folly and ignorance and vice.  How many a young man has
started fairly in life, and yet before many years have passed he has
made a complete shipwreck of all the bright promises on which his
friends trusted, with himself alone to blame, because he refused to
consult or to be guided by the only sure chart and compass which could
guide him aright!  For what purpose did the wise King of Israel--the
wisest of the kings of the earth--write his proverbs, do you think?  Not
for his own satisfaction or amusement, but because he felt it a sacred
duty he owed to posterity to give the result of his own meditations, of
his observations, and of his own bitter experience.  Yet how few men,
comparatively, go to that book of books for counsel, for guidance, and
direction?  Where can be found more ample directions for getting on in
life, as the phrase is, for making money, for becoming great in this
world even, than the Book of Solomon affords?"

I agreed with my kind and thoughtful host, and promised to study that
work more than I had ever before done.  I ought to have said that I
would begin and study it--for, alas! how completely had I before
neglected it.

After this extraordinary incident, I believe that had I been near a
port, I should have again embarked for London; but as it was, we agreed
to continue our journey by land.  We reached London in safety.

We did not stay there long.  The bustle and noise, and seeming
confusion, after the complete quiet of our Shetland life, was so
wearying, that, having seen some of the chief lions of that great city,
we were glad to set off by the coach for Portsmouth.

Aunt Bretta was delighted to receive us, and my jovial, kind-hearted
uncle welcomed us most cordially.  I thought Aunt Bretta would never
have ceased asking questions about dear old Shetland.  A stranger would
have supposed from her expressions about it, that there did not exist a
more delightful spot on earth.

Margaret, however, was never weary of replying to all the inquiries
made.  I never saw two people suit each other so well as my aunt and
wife,--the one so hearty, full of life and spirits, and brimming over
with the milk of human kindness,--the other so tranquil, so sensible,
and sweet-tempered.

My uncle and I also got on capitally together.  I admired his jovial,
frank, hearty, and kind disposition, his thorough uprightness and hatred
of deceit, while he found in me enough good qualities to like, and was
pleased because I admired him and was able to talk with him frankly and
openly on all subjects.  That is, I believe, the great secret of
friendship.  Mutual esteem and perfect confidence is the only foundation
on which it can be built up and made perfect.  Both parties to the bond
must feel that they appreciate each other's motives and objects, and
that every allowance will be made for what they say, and the best
possible construction put on their words.  When two people meet between
whom such qualifications exist, their friendship is lasting.

My uncle told me, that as he knew I should not wish to be idle, he had
obtained a situation for me, which he thought I should like, as suitable
to my former habits.

"It is in a private dockyard, where, if you are steady and attentive you
will, I am certain, obtain a still more lucrative employment," he
remarked; "had it been war time I should have tried to obtain an
appointment in the Royal Dockyard, because you would then have had
protection from the pressgang; but now you need have no fear of that."

Two days after that, war again broke out with France!  It was arranged
to our mutual satisfaction that Margaret and I should permanently take
up our abode with our relatives.  They had a couple of spare rooms,
which they had at times let to lodgers, so that we in no way incommoded
them.

Never was there a more happy family party.  We were not over-refined; we
did not set up for people of that sort, it must be remembered, or call
ourselves gentlemen and ladies.  Nor did our guests.  They were,
however, always well-behaved, civil people, who would on no account have
committed any real solecism in good manners.

Old Jerry Vincent used to look in, as before, very frequently, with a
budget of his funny stories, to which other neighbours gladly came to
listen.  There was invariably much laughter, and no small amount of tea
and tobacco consumed, not to speak occasionally of some more potent
compound; but my uncle took good care that none of his guests should
pass the limits of sobriety, though he had at times some little
difficulty in keeping old Jerry in order.  I should remark that old
Jerry was an exception to the general character of our guests, who were
as a rule of a much higher rank in the social scale.  I remember
especially one of the old man's stories which is worth recording.

"You must know, mates," said he, "once upon a time I belonged to a brig
of war on the Newfoundland station.  It isn't just the place, in my
opinion, that a man would wish to spend his life in.  Too much frost and
fog, and wind and rain, to be pleasant.  But bad as it was, I thought
there was a worse place to be in, and that was aboard my own ship.  We
never know when we are well off.  I don't think I was right, do ye see;
but rather, I am very well convinced, that I was a fool.  Young men
sometimes don't find that out till it's too late.  Howsomedever, I found
another fool as big as myself, which is never very difficult when you
look for him, and he and I agreed to run from the ship.  Now, before I
go on with my story, I'll just ask one or two of you young men, have any
of you ever seen the biggest fool in the world?  Well, I thought not;
you can't say that you have, and, what's more, you never will.  If you
think that you have got hold of him, you may be sure that you'll fall in
with a bigger before long somewhere else.  That is my philosophy, and I
am not far wrong, depend on it.

"Well, where was I?  Oh, I know.  My mate's name--t'other fool, I mean--
was Abraham Coxe.  The ship had put into Saint John's, Newfoundland.  He
and I belonged to the same boat's crew.  Soon after we got there we were
sent on shore to water.  After some time, as the rest of our party were
rolling the casks down to the beach, we managed to slip away, and made a
run of it for a mile or more, till we could stow ourselves snug inside
the walls of an old cottage.  As soon as it was dark we came out, and
set off as hard as we could go right into the country.  We thought some
one was following us, but we were wrong.  The officers knew better than
we did what sort of a place we had got into, and calculated that we
shouldn't be long before wishing ourselves back again.

"At night we reached a cottage, where the good people treated us kindly,
for, do ye see, we spun them a long yarn, which hadn't a word of truth
in it, about our being sent away up there to look after a shipmate who
had lost his senses.  So, after we had eaten and drunken and taken a
good snooze, we set off again towards the mountains, for we had a notion
that we should find our way somehow or other into America.  We expected
to fall in with another village, but we were mistaken, and by
dinner-time we began to feel very peckish.  There was no use standing
still, so we walked on and on till we got further up among the
mountains, and as the sun was hid by clouds, and there was no wind, we
very soon lost our way.

"Now, do ye see, to lose your way with a full stomach is not altogether
pleasant, but to lose it on an empty one, and not to know where a dinner
is to be found, is worse any day than to get three dozen.  That's got
quickly over, and you know the worst.  We had no baccy neither, and the
air up there sharpened our teeth till we were ready to bite our tongues
out.

"`Well, mate,' says I to Abraham Coxe, `I wish that I were safe aboard
again.  I don't by no manner of means like these short commons.'

"`Wait a bit till we have been knocking about for two or three days
more, and then cry out, my bo',' says he, for he was a regular Job's
comforter, that he was.

"Well, evening was coming on, and as we couldn't find our way out of the
mountains, nor get any food either, we thought that we might as well
look out for a warm berth to sleep in at night.  At last we saw a small
hole in a rock, which looked like the mouth of a cave.

"`There will be a comfortable bed-place inside that place, mate,' says
I, as I poked my head into the hole, while Abraham stood outside.  It
was almost dark inside, but still there was light enough to make out
that, there was a good big place further in.  I was going along on my
hands and knees, when what should I see but several animals like biggish
pigs crawling about.  I was wondering what they were, when I heard
Abraham Coxe sing out.

"`Quick, Jerry, quick, get out of the cave, for there is a great big
bear coming along the valley, and she's close aboard of us!'

"It was all very well for Coxe to say, get out of the cave; but that was
more than I could do in a hurry without turning round, when I might have
had all the young bears attacking my rump, saving your presence, ladies.
Coxe also didn't stop to help me, but scampered off as hard as his legs
could carry him.  I was going to make the best of my way after him, when
I saw a big white bear not three fathoms off, evidently steering for the
very place itself.

"There was no use trying to get out, for to a certainty the brute would
have grappled me in a moment; so I drew back, thinking to remain
concealed.  Just then I remembered the beasts I had seen inside, and I
guessed that they were the bear's cubs, and that I had taken possession
of her abode.  It was not a pleasant idea, certainly, but there was no
help for it.  In another minute the great big she-bear came snuffing up
to the hole where I lay.  I thought that it was all up with me, and
expected every moment to be made into a supper for the bear and her
cubs.  The little beasts were all the time licking my heels just to have
a taste, I thought, of what was to come.  The bear began to growl, I
fancied because she found me inside; but I believe it was just her way
of talking to her cubs.  Thinks I to myself, I'll have a fight for it;
so I doubled my fists, intending to give her a good lick on the eye
before she ate me, when, just as I thought that she was going to make a
grab at me, she slewed round and began to back into the cave stern
foremost.

"`Ho! ho!' says I to myself, `if you goes to make a stern-board, old
gal, I'll rake you before you shows your broadside to me again;' so on
that I whips out my long knife, which I had tucked away in my belt, with
a lanyard round my neck, and drove it with all my force right into her.
The more she backed, and the louder she growled, the harder and faster I
drove in the knife.  Still she came backing and backing, and I didn't
like the prospect at all.  I thought to myself, `If she drives me up
against the end of the cave, she'll squeeze all the breath out of my
body, to a certainty.'

"At last, however, when she got to the narrowest part of the hole, she
sank down from loss of blood.  I thought she would perhaps begin to move
on again, but she didn't.  After she had given a few growls, which grew
fainter and fainter, I made sure she was dead.

"As I was pretty nigh famished, thinks I to myself, `I'll have some
steaks out of you, old gal, at all events;' so I cut three or four fine
steaks out of her rump (saving your pardon, Mrs Kelson, and ladies
all), and precious juicy and nice to look at they were; but how to dress
them was the job.  At first I thought that I should have to eat them
raw, as I had often done salt beef; but on hunting about on a higher
part of the cave, I found a quantity of dry sticks and leaves which had
served the bears for a bed, I suppose.  Piling up some of them, I struck
a light, and made a fire to dress the steaks, while the young cubs kept
rubbing against me, and couldn't make out whether I was their mother or
their daddy I believe.  I gave them each a bit of steak, which they
seemed to think not bad sucking.

"You see I was inside the cave, though there was just room to look out
over the body of the dead bear, but scarcely space enough for me to have
squeezed myself out if I had wished it.  I didn't just then wish to go
out, for I was very comfortable; I had a dry roof over my head, and
company too, and plenty to eat; only I should have liked a glass of grog
to wash down the food.

"Well, as I was eating the bear's steak, I thought to myself, `It would
have been better for Abraham Coxe if he had stuck to his old shipmate
instead of running away at sight of danger.'

"I had just finished supper, and was thinking of turning in for the
night, when I heard a loud growl at the mouth of the cave.  I made sure
that it was the she-bear come to life again, for I was getting drowsy,
and I began to think what she would say to me for having stolen her
steaks.  However, at last I got up and looked out, and there I saw a
great big he-bear walking about in front of the cave, and I have no
doubt scolding his wife for not getting out of his way to let him in.
At last he began to back astern, but he couldn't make her move.

"`Growl away, my bo',' says I.  `If you keep on at that game, I'll make
steaks of you before long.'

"I sat as quiet as possible, picking my teeth with the point of my
knife, for the steaks were rather tough, you may guess.  The little
bears, playful like, were running about round me, while the old bear was
grumbling away outside, thinking maybe that his wife had taken a drop
too much, and couldn't get up.  All of a sudden I heard a great
hullabaloo, and several shots were fired, and down came the old bear as
dead as a door nail in front of the cave.

"Among other voices, I recognised that of Abraham Coxe.  `My poor mate
is killed, and eaten by the bears,' says he; `but I may as well have his
knife, and his baccy-box and buttons, if they ain't eaten too.'

"`No, I ain't eaten nor dead either, you cowardly rascal, and I hope a
better man nor you may have my traps when I do go,' I sings out, for I
was in a towering rage at being deserted.

"At first the people were going to run away, thinking it was my ghost
that was speaking; but when I sang out again, and told them that I was a
living man, some of them took courage, and came and dragged the two old
bears out of the way.  At last I crawled out, followed by the young
cubs, to the great astonishment of all who saw us.  To make a long story
short, this was the way how the people had come to my rescue.  When Coxe
ran away, not knowing where he went, he ran right into the village,
which was all the time close to us.  When the villagers heard what had
happened, they all came out to have a shot at the bears, not expecting
to find me alive.  They seemed very glad I had escaped, and carried me
back in triumph to the village.  As it was through our means they got
two bears and a number of cubs, they treated us very kindly, and pressed
us to stay with them.  When, however, we found that we should never
reach America by going over the mountains, and as we had no fancy to
spend a winter in this outlandish sort of a place, seeing that the
summer wasn't very pleasant, we judged it best to go back to our ship
and give ourselves up.  We got three dozen a-piece, which I can only say
we richly deserved, and neither of us ever attempted to desert again.
`Let well alone,' I used to say.  `If I do get away, I shall only find
myself before long on board another ship, and worse off than before,
probably.'"

Jerry's advice was very sound.  Many a man deserts to obtain an
uncertain good, and finds, when too late, that he has secured a certain
ill.

Those truly were pleasant evenings at our quiet little house.  I wish
that I could recollect all old Jerry's stories I may perhaps call to
mind a few more another day, for I think that they are well worthy of
repetition.

CHAPTER TEN.

HAPPINESS AT HOME--WAR BREAKS OUT AGAIN--PRESSGANGS ABROAD--MYSTERIOUS
APPEARANCE OF CHARLEY IFFLEY--HIS UNACCOUNTABLE CONDUCT--ANECDOTES ABOUT
SMUGGLERS--THE OLD COUPLE AND THEIR LOST SON--SEA-YARNS.

No happiness could be more complete than ours, and I saw no reason why
it should not be permanent.  Happy it undoubtedly is that we do not see
the dark clouds of adversity gathering in the horizon, yet it would be
wiser in men if they would still recollect that, however bright the sky
and fine the weather, storms may arise, and thick mists may overshadow
them--perhaps sent as punishments, perhaps in mercy to try and purify
them.  I was actively engaged all day in the duties of my office, and in
the evening, when I returned home, I was welcomed by the smiles of my
wife, and the cordial kindness of Aunt Bretta.  I desired no change--I
should have been content to live the same sort of life to the end of my
days.  I had a few little rubs and annoyances to contend with in my
employment, but I did not allow them to vex me, and went on steadily
doing my duty, neither turning to the right hand nor to the left.

War with France had again broken out, and England was making every
effort to renew the struggle with the numerous foes which her prosperity
and greatness had won for her.  A difficulty existed then, as now, in
manning the navy, and the pressgangs were always hard at work
endeavouring to secure by force or stratagem the necessary crew for the
ships.

I knew that I was not exempt from the risk of being taken, but as I
dressed in shore-going clothes, and as I was not likely to meet any of
my old shipmates or other people who knew me to have been a seaman, I
had little fear on the subject.  Had I been single and without the ties
of home, I would gladly have once more gone afloat to serve my country;
but how could I be expected to tear myself from all I loved on earth to
do duty before the mast among rough and uneducated men, subject to all
the rigours of the naval discipline of those days?  I talked the subject
over with my uncle.

"If the time comes when every man who can handle a rope is wanted, I
shall be the first to say `Go,'" said he.  "Till then, my boy, stay at
home, do your duty, and look after your wife."

I was too glad to follow his advice.  There was no grass growing in the
streets of Portsmouth in those days.  The place swarmed with seamen and
officers; troops were marching in and out; carriages-and-four were
dashing down from London; bands were playing; the hotels swarmed with
visitors come to see their friends off; ships were being commissioned
and fitted out with unwonted rapidity; and all was life, activity, and
energy.  I now and then, on my way home, took a walk up High Street, for
the amusement of observing the bustling, laughing, talking, busy throng.

One evening, as I turned to go back, my eye fell on the countenance of a
man whose features I felt sure I knew.  In an instant I recollected that
they were those of Charles Iffley.  Forgetting all I had heard to his
disparagement, I was going to follow him, when he turned into a cross
street among a crowd who were looking on at some itinerant tumblers, and
I lost sight of him.  I felt very sorry, for I should have been glad to
have shaken him again by the hand and invited him to our house.  My wife
and aunt used constantly to walk out a little way on the common to meet
me.

Two days after that, when they met me, they told me that, in the
morning, as they were returning home, they had suddenly encountered
Charles Iffley.  He knew them at once, but did not speak.  He stopped
for an instant, stared hard at them, and then moved on.  When, however,
they reached our house door, they observed that he had followed them at
a distance and remarked where they had gone in.  Just as they had
finished their account, the very person we were speaking of appeared at
the further end of the road coming towards us.  Directly, however, he
saw us, he stopped short and looked at me with an astonished and
inquiring gaze.  He remained long enough, apparently, to ascertain
positively who it was.  At first he evidently was in doubt.  He had
heard of my death, and believed that I was dead, I concluded, and that
when he saw me alive, and, as he might have suspected, married to the
very woman who had refused to become his wife, he at first could not
trust his senses.

My impulse was immediately to run forward to meet him, but my wife
pressed my arm so tightly that I could not leave her.

"No, no, do not go," she whispered.  "I do not like his look.  He means
us mischief."  She must have felt very strongly, I knew, before she
could have given way to such an expression.  Of course, I yielded to her
wish, though it went much against my feelings to turn away from my old
associate, ill as I had too much reason to think of him.  I could not
help agreeing with my wife, as I watched him, that I did not like his
look.  There was something very evil in his expression as he watched us
proceeding towards our home, and I could no longer have any doubt that
he recognised me.  I never before had seen his countenance wear so
malignant an expression, and I feared, not without reason, that even at
that moment he was plotting to do us some mischief.  A picture I had
once seen was forcibly recalled to my memory.  It represented Satan
watching our first parents in Paradise, and when he is envying them the
happiness he can never enjoy, he is considering how he may the most
effectually destroy it.

When we got home, we talked the matter over.  I did not express my own
suspicions to my wife, as they could not fail to agitate her, but I
endeavoured rather to make light of it, and to appear as if I hoped,
should Charles Iffley feel any desire of revenge, that he would be
unable to effect it.  I felt regret, also, that I had not hurried after
Iffley.  Whatever were his feelings, I thought that I might perhaps have
turned his heart to better thoughts by talking of bygone days and of our
early friendship.  "Well, it may not yet be too late," I thought to
myself; "I will seek him out and try to persuade him to discard those
feelings of jealousy and envy which are now influencing him."  When,
however, I mentioned my intentions to Uncle Kelson, he rather laughed at
my notion.

"An idle, conceited young puppy.  What business has he to interfere with
you or yours?" he exclaimed.  "Because a girl, of whom he is utterly
unworthy, does not choose to have anything to say to him, is he to set
himself up and to look daggers at any man she may happen to marry?  Let
him alone.  Let him go his own gait, as your Aunt Bretta would say.
He'll find a rope long enough to hang himself, depend on it."

My uncle thought he was giving good advice, but even at the time I felt
that better is given elsewhere.  "Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed
him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals
of fire on his head.  Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with
good."  I felt that if I could have met with Iffley, I might have heaped
coals of fire on his head.  I might have softened his heart, just as the
contents of a pot are melted by piling up coals, not only around it, but
on the very head or top of it.  I did not do what I felt and knew was
right, and the result of my neglect will be seen.

Aunt Bretta was more indignant than any of us with Iffley.  "If he does
come to the door, in my opinion, he ought to be turned away!" she
exclaimed.  "The idea of a person whom I knew as a little boy, glad to
receive a slice of gingerbread, giving himself such airs!  I have no
notion of it."  This was very severe for Aunt Bretta, whose heart was
kindness itself.

On making inquiries of the servant, she discovered that a man exactly
answering his description had, while they were out, knocked at the door
and asked all sorts of questions.

"She could not mind what exactly," she said.  "They were about Mr
Wetherholm.  Where he had come from!  When he had got married?  What he
was doing?  And all sorts of such like things."  After I had heard this
account of the servant girl, I could not help feeling somewhat
suspicious of Iffley's object.  The mere asking them was very natural,
and had he come frankly forward to meet us, I should not have
entertained any ill thoughts of him; but now, in spite of all my
resolution, I could not help dreading that he contemplated doing me some
mischief or other.  Still I did my best to get rid of such thoughts of
an old friend, for they were not pleasant.

When the evening came, I forgot all about the matter.  Old Jerry Vincent
looked in, and several other friends, among them two former shipmates of
Uncle Kelson's, and anecdotes and stories innumerable were told.  We got
on the subject of smuggling.  In those days it was certainly not looked
on in its proper light, and a smuggler, if he was bold and daring, was
considered a very fine fellow.  Most of our guests were Hampshire or
Isle of Wight men, and had been personally acquainted with many of the
smugglers in their day, and might, perhaps, not have refused to purchase
any of the goods they had to offer.

"Some of you may have known Jim Dore?" began Jerry.

One or two nodded.

"I thought so," said Jerry.  "Well, then, when he began the work he was
very young, and there wasn't a bolder or more daring hand in the trade.
We were boys together, and a braver fellow or better seaman never
stepped.  He was a Yarmouth man, born and bred, just inside the Needles
there.  There was a large family of them.  He wasn't always as prudent
as he might be, and one day he and the cutter he was in was taken with
three hundred tubs on board.  Of course he was sent to serve his
Majesty.  When he found that there was no help for it, he vowed that he
would do his duty like a man, and he kept his word.

"He was sent aboard a brig of war employed in looking after smugglers,
and though before she had never taken one, now scarcely a month passed
that through his means she did not make a prize.

"Once upon a time the brig attacked a large armed smuggler, the crew of
which had vowed that they never would be taken alive.  There was a
desperate fight for more than three hours, and in the end the smugglers
kept their word, for they went down with colours flying, under the guns
of the brig which was just about to board them.  On this occasion, as on
every other, Dore behaved so bravely that the captain put him on the
quarter-deck, and if he had chosen to follow it, there was the road open
to him to become an admiral.  But you know there are people who cannot
give up habits, so to speak, born and bred with them, as one may say.

"Well, Dore's time of servitude was up for the smuggling affair, and
soon after that the brig put into Portsmouth harbour.  The next day Dore
got leave to go and see his friends, so he hired a wherry, and got ready
for a start for Yarmouth.  Just as he was shoving off, I saw him and
asked him for a cast down there, as I had some friends in those days in
the same place.  Now, though he was an officer with a cocked hat on his
head, and a sword by his side, I knew that he was in no way proud, at
all events.  He told me to jump into the boat, by all means.  On our way
down I asked him if he was going to be long away from his ship.

"`Long away, do you say?' he answered, in an indignant tone.  `I'll tell
you what it is, Vincent, it will be long, I'm thinking, before I go back
again.  I've been made an officer of, it's true, but I haven't been
treated as one or looked on as one, because I wasn't born a gentleman,
and slavery in a cocked hat I, for one, will not bear.'

"In that way he talked till we got pretty nearly down to Yarmouth.  At
last he worked himself up into a regular rage, for he was a passionate
man, do you see.

"`Give us a knife, some one of you,' he sang out.

"I handed him mine.  When he got it, he began cutting off the buttons
from his coat.  Then he unbuckled his sword, and took off his hat.  He
jumped up, and holding all the things together, as it were in a lump, he
hove them away into the sea as far from him as he could, uttering at the
same time a loud and deep curse.  `There goes the last link of the chain
that binds me to slavery!' he exclaimed.  `Now, my lads, I'm once more
Jim Dore, the bold smuggler.'

"The men in the boat thought what he had done was very fine, and so did
I in those days, and so we all cheered him over and over again.  When he
landed at Yarmouth, every one turned out to welcome him as if he had
been an admiral just come home after a great victory; and certainly the
people did make much of him.  Those Yarmouth men are great smugglers,
there's no doubt about it.  I don't think, however, myself, as I did in
those days.  Dore was a brave man, and it's a great pity he had not been
taught better, and he might have been an ornament to the service he
deserted.

"When his leave was up, and he did not return, an officer with a boat's
crew was sent to look for him.  He got notice of their coming, and got
stowed out of the way, for there were plenty of people to help him.  He
had to keep in hiding for a long time, and often, I dare say, he wished
himself back aboard the brig.  When the war was over he took to
smuggling again, and he soon got command of a large cutter.  At last he
and some other Yarmouth men went away in her, and from that day to this
have never been heard of.  It is supposed that the cutter was run down
or foundered in a tremendous gale of wind, which sprung up soon after
she was last seen."

One of our friends who came from Poole in Dorsetshire, told us a very
good story, when Jerry Vincent and one or two others sang out in chorus,
"Howe! howe! howe!"

I asked what they meant.

"That is what we always say to a Poole man," answered Jerry.  "Did you
never hear tell of the Poole man and the owl?"

I told him that I never had, and asked him for the story.

"Well, you must know that once upon a time there was a homeward-bound
Poole man just coming up Channel, and not far off the land, when, the
night being somewhat dark, do ye see, an old owl flew by `Howe! howe!
howe!' cried the owl.

"The master, who had been dozing aft, thinking all the time, exactly as
many another man does, that he was wide awake, just heard the sound as
he roused up, and fancied that another skipper was hailing him.

"`From Newfoundland!' he sang out, rubbing his eyes, and dreaming that
he saw the strange ship abeam.

"`Howe! howe! howe!' hooted the owl again.

"`With fish,' answered the Poole man.

"`Howe! howe! howe!' once more cried the old owl, as he was flying off.

"`Over Poole bar with the next tide, please the pigs,' sang out the
skipper at the top of his voice, for fear those in the other craft
wouldn't otherwise hear him.  Nothing would ever persuade him that he
hadn't been talking all the time with the skipper of some outward-bound
craft.

"That's all very well, and it is not a bad story, and may be true, or it
may not; but you Hampshire men are not all of you so very clever,"
answered Mr Bexley, our Poole friend, who had himself been skipper of a
merchantman.  "Have none of you ever heard speak of Botley assizes, eh?"

I asked him what he meant.

"Why," he answered, "you know Botley isn't very far from Southampton.
Once upon a time a party of young chaps belonging to Botley were
returning from a merry-making of some sort, and as it happened, all of
them but one were more than three sheets in the wind.  For some reason
or other, nothing would make this one touch a drop of liquor.  As they
were walking along they began to jeer him, and at last they declared
that he had been guilty of a capital offence, because he had let the
glass pass by, and they agreed that they would try him.  Well, they came
to a place near a wood, where there were a number of trees cut down, and
there they all sat round, and the accused was placed in the middle.  The
most drunk of the party was chosen as judge, and the others were the
counsel, some to accuse and the others to defend him.

"The poor fellow tried to get away, but his friends would not let him.
He, of course, had nothing to say for himself, except that he did not
choose to drink, and the upshot of his trial was that he was condemned
to be hung.

"Unfortunately one of them had a rope with him, and without more ado
they ran up the culprit to the nearest tree.  To be sure, they did
intend to put the rope round his waist, but they were too drunk to know
exactly what they were about, and by mistake slipped it, Jack Ketch
fashion, round his neck.  Having done this wise trick, they all ran
away, shrieking with laughter at the cleverness of their joke.

"They were very much surprised to find, the next morning, that the poor
fellow was missing.  At last they went out to look for him, and found
him hanging where they had left him, but as dead as a church door.

"So, gentlemen, you see that the people in those parts are very clever
chaps, and if you take them at their own value, there are none to be
found like them in all the world.  I have another story for you to prove
this.

"One day a poor Jew fell into the Itchen.

"`Oh, shave me! shave me! vil no one shave me?' he sang out; but of all
the people standing round there wasn't one who would touch him with his
fingers, because they looked on him as a dirty old Jew.

"At last they thought that though he was a Jew it was a shame to let him
drown, so half-a-dozen or more of them ran off to get a rake to haul him
out.  One couldn't find a rake, and another couldn't find a rake; so,
long before they came back, the poor Jew was drowned.  That is the
reason why we say, when a chap is a long time doing a thing that he
ought to have done in a hurry, `He's gone for a rake to haul out the
Jew.'"

"Ay, ay, Mr Bexley, but you know what the Poole man did when his pig
got his head through the bars of the gate?" exclaimed Jerry Vincent,
with a good-natured laugh.  "Why, you see, mates, when he found that he
couldn't haul it out, to save trouble he cut off the beast's head.  Some
people in our parts would have sawed through the bars, but we don't
pretend to be wise, you know.

"I don't mind telling a story against ourselves.  Did any of you ever
hear why the Downton people are called `Moonrakers'?  They themselves
don't mind hearing the story.  Once upon a time, some Downton men had
sunk some tubs in a big pond, and they were hard at work all night
raking them up.  While they were still engaged, who should come by but a
party of custom-house people.

"`What are you doing there, men?' they asked.  `Some mischief, no
doubt.'

"`Oh, no! please, kind gentlemen, we are only trying to rake the moon
out of this pond,' answered the Downton men, quite in a simple voice.
You see that the moon was at the time shining brightly down into the
pond.

"`Oh! is that all?' said the custom-house people, thinking that they
were a few simpletons escaped out of a madhouse.  On went the
custom-house people.  After a little time they came back.  The smugglers
had just got out their last tub.  Some clouds meantime had come over the
moon.  `Well, my men, have you got the moon at last?' said the
custom-house officer.

"`Oh, yes! there's little doubt about it, for it's no longer there.  If
we haven't got it, perhaps you can tell us who has.'

"This made the custom-house people feel sure that they were right in
their conjectures; so on they went, little dreaming of the prize they
had lost."

We all laughed heartily at Jerry Vincent's and Mr Bexley's stories.

"I'll tell you a story, for the truth of which I can vouch," said Uncle
Kelson.  "The circumstance only lately happened.  So, strange as it may
seem, there is no doubt about it.  You all have heard speak of Sir Harry
Burrard Neale, who commands just now the King's yacht, the _Royal
Charlotte_.  The boatswain of her is a friend of mine, and last summer
he got me a cast down to Weymouth, where I wanted to go to see the widow
of an old shipmate I had promised to look after.  We were just clear of
the Needles.  There was a light breeze and a smooth sea, when we made
out a small boat standing towards us, seemingly as if she had come out
of Poole harbour or Swanage.

"`She seems to me to be a fishing-boat, and as if she wanted to speak
us, Sir Harry,' said the first lieutenant, who had been spying at her
through his glass.

"`So I see,' answered the captain.  `There seem to be two people in her
making signals.  It will not delay us much, so heave the ship to, and
let us learn what they want.'

"This was just like Sir Harry.  Many a captain would have stood on and
taken no notice of a poor fisherman's boat, even had there been a dozen
people waving in her.  In a little time the boat came alongside, with a
man and a woman in her, and they were certainly the rummest old couple
you ever saw in your life.

"A midshipman hailed them, and asked them what they wanted.  As well as
we could make out, for they spoke very broad Scotch, they said that they
wanted their son.

"`Let them come aboard,' said Sir Harry kindly, `and we will hear what
they have to say.'

"With no little difficulty, after a good deal of pulling and hauling, we
got the old couple upon deck, and led them aft to Sir Harry.

"`For whom are you inquiring, my good people?' asked the captain.

"`Our bairn, sir--our ain bairn,' answered the old lady.  `For many a
weary week have we been looking for him, and never have our eyes rested
on his bonnie face since the black day, near five long years ago, when
he was carried away from us.  Ah! it was a sair day, sirs.'

"`What is your son's name, my good people?' asked Sir Harry.

"`David, sir--Davie Campbell.  He was so called after his grandfather,
who died in '45, with mony other brave men,' answered the old dame.

"`We have a man of that name on board, sir,' remarked the first
lieutenant to the captain.  `He is in the watch below.  It will be
strange if he should prove to be the man these poor souls are searching
for.'

"`Let him be called on deck, and we will see if they acknowledge him as
their son,' said Sir Harry.  `There must be many hundred David Campbells
in the world, I suspect, so do not raise their hopes too high by letting
them know that at all events we know the name on board.'

"`David Campbell!  David Campbell!' was passed along the decks, and in a
minute a fine active young fellow came tumbling up from below.

"A mother's eye was not to be deceived.  She knew him in an instant, and
toddled off as fast as her legs would carry her, followed by her
husband, to meet him.  `He is, he is my ain bairn!  There's none like
him!' she cried; and not caring a fig for the officers and men standing
around,--before even he knew who she was,--she had him clasped in her
arms, and was covering his cheeks with kisses, while the old father had
got hold of his hand and was tagging away at it just as a man in a hurry
does at a bell-rope.

"Now comes the extraordinary part of the story.  Campbell had been
rather a wildish sort of a chap, and getting into some scrape, had gone
on board a tender, at Leith I think it was, and entered the navy.  He
could not write, and was ashamed to get any one to write for him, so his
old father and mother did not know where he was, or whether he was alive
or dead.

"At last their hearts grew weary at not hearing tidings of him, and they
resolved to set out together to look out for their lost sheep; for you
see they were decent people and well to do in the world, so they had
money to bear the expense, which was not slight.  They had very little
information to guide them.  All they knew was, that their son had gone
on board one of the King's ships.  A mother's deep love and a father's
affection was the only compass by which they could steer their course.
That did not fail them.  They went from port to port, and visited every
ship in harbour, and asked every seaman they met about their son, but
nothing could they hear of him.  At last, that very morning, a waggon
had brought them to Poole, and seeing a ship in the offing, which was no
other than the _Royal Charlotte_, they had got a boatman to take them
out to us.

"That, now, is what I call a providential circumstance; indeed, from all
I have seen and learned since I came into the world, I am convinced that
there is nothing happens in it by chance.  The God of heaven orders all
for the best in kindness to us.  Sometimes, it is true, things do not
occur exactly as we could wish, but that does not alter the rule; for if
we could but see the end, we should discover that the very thing of
which we most complain was in reality most for our good.  Remember that,
nephew, whenever you get into danger or difficulty; be sure that you do
your duty, and all will come right at last.  But I have not told you the
end of my story.

"The Poole boatman was sent on shore, and the traps of the old couple
were handed up on board.  Like canny Scotch people, they had not let
their property remain out of their sight, but had brought it with them.
It was delightful to see their pleasure when Sir Harry invited them to
go on to Weymouth, and to live on board as long as the ship remained
there; and he gave orders to have a screen put up for their
accommodation.  That, too, was just like him.  There is not another man
in the service more considerate or kind to all below him.  All, too, who
know him love him; and his Majesty, I believe, trusts him more, and
loves him more, than he does all his courtiers put together.

"Never have I seen a pair of old folks look more happy, as their son
went about showing them round the ship, and when all the officers and
crew spoke kindly to them as they passed.

"The king, too, when he came on board and heard the story, was very much
interested, and sent for them to have a talk with them.  They did not
know who he was, but when they came out of the cabin they said that he
was one of the kindest old gentlemen they had ever seen; that he had had
a long crack with them all about bonnie Scotland and Scotch people; and
that he had asked them a heap of questions about their adventures.

"You should have seen their look of surprise when they heard that it was
his gracious Majesty himself.  [Note.  Admiral Sir Harry Burrard Neale
was a great-uncle of the author, and the account is given as it was
narrated to him many years ago.] They wanted to go back to fall down on
their knees, and to ask his pardon for talking so freely with him, and
it was not till we assured them that the king talked just in the same
way with any of the crew, that we could quiet them and make them believe
that all was right.

"At last, having assured themselves that their son was well and happy,
they returned with contented hearts to Scotland, and many has been the
long yarn they have spun, I doubt not, about King George and all the
wonders they have seen on their travels."

Every one was very much interested in my uncle's story.  A young man who
was present, a friend of mine, belonging to a revenue cutter, observed,
"We were talking of smugglers just now.  There is no end to the dodges
they are up to.

"Not long ago, soon after I joined the _Lively_, it had come on to blow
pretty fresh, and we had had a dirty night of it, when just as morning
broke we made out a cutter standing in for the land to the eastward of
Weymouth, and about two miles from us.  The wind was from the
north-west, and it had kicked up a nasty sea, running pretty high, as it
well knows how to do in that part of the Channel.

"Our old mate, Mr Futlock, had the morning watch.  It was never his
brightest time, for though he did not actually get tipsy, the reaction
following the four or five pretty stiff glasses of grog which he drank
at night, generally at this time took place.  I was in his watch.

"`Youngster,' said he to me, `hand me the glass, and let us see if we
can make out what that fellow is.'

"I brought him the glass, which was kept hung up in beckets within the
companion-hatch.  I had got my sea-legs aboard pretty well, but I
confess that I felt very queer that morning in certain regions, ranging
from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, and I doubt not looked
very yellow in the cheeks, with every instant an irresistible drawing
down of the mouth, and that worst of signs, a most unyoungsterlike
disinclination to eat.

"Mr Futlock took the glass, and with his lack-lustre eye had a long
look at the cutter, which was bobbing away into the seas, while she kept
her course on a wind as if in no manner of a hurry.

"`She is honest, I believe,' he observed, with a wise nod.  `Probably a
Poole or Exmouth trader; but we must overhaul her notwithstanding.
Shake a reef out of the mainsail, my lads.'

"This was quickly done, and the sail hoisted up.  `Now, keep her away a
couple of points more, and we shall about fetch her.'

"Our mate's orders being executed, away we went tearing through the
foaming, hissing water, now looking, in the morning's pale light, of a
dark, melancholy hue.  The stranger continued on as steady as before.

"`Oh, there's no use in the world giving ourselves the trouble of
boarding her,' muttered Mr Futlock; and he was just going to order the
cutter to be kept on a wind, when we saw the stranger haul up his
foresail, and let fly his jib sheets, evidently intending to wait our
coming.

"`What cutter is that?' shouted old Futlock.

"`The _Polly_ of London, bound for Weymouth,' answered a man, who stood
at the taffrail, through a speaking-trumpet.  `We hove-to, sir, that we
might tell you we have just run over a large number of tubs away there
to the southward.'

"`Thank you, thank you,' shouted Mr Futlock in return, as we ran by and
were soon out of speaking distance.  `I knew that fellow was honest,' he
observed to me, rubbing his hands at the thought of making some
prize-money.  `Come, rouse aft the main-sheet.  We must haul up a little
again.  Can any one see the tubs?'

"There were plenty of busy eyes looking out for the prize, and it was
not long before we discovered them on the weather bow.  By keeping our
luff we were quickly up to them.

"The commander was by this time called, and now came a difficulty.  With
the heavy sea there was running, it was a work not free from danger to
lower a boat.  We first shortened sail; the helm was put down, and the
cutter hove-to, and then, after several attempts by waiting for a lull,
we got the boat with a crew safe in water.

"Mr Futlock jumped into the boat, and pulled towards the tubs which
were first seen, we meantime keeping a bright look-out for any more
which might be floating near.

"Not being accustomed to this sort of work, I felt not a little alarmed
for the safety of my shipmates, as I saw the boat tumbling about among
the white-crested waves.

"Mr Futlock soon got hold of ten tubs, lashed together, and hauled them
into the boat.  A little further on he made a prize of ten more.  This
was no bad beginning.  He was returning with them, having in vain
searched for others, when we made out another collection just ahead of
the cutter.  We soon had them all aboard, though the boat was nearly
swamped alongside.  We hoisted her in at last, and seeing no more tubs,
let draw the foresail, and again stood on.  When at last we looked about
for our communicative friend, he was not visible; but some of the men
said they thought they had seen him standing in for the land.

"We cruised about all the morning in the neighbourhood, but not a tub
more could we discover.  Three days after that we dropped our anchor in
Weymouth roads.  The commander went on shore to communicate with the
officer of the coast-guard on the station.

"`We were looking out for a cutter with a large cargo the other day, but
somehow or other we managed to miss her, and she managed to land every
tub.  We understand that there has not been such a run for years,'
observed the coast-guard officer.

"Something made our commander fancy that she might have been the very
craft we spoke, and which had been so ready with information.

"`A cutter of about fifty tons, with her bulwarks painted yellow
inside?' he asked.

"`The very same,' answered the lieutenant.  `That cunning rascal, Dick
Johnstone, was on board of her himself.  Hearing that we were on the
look-out for his craft, the _Seagull_, he shifted his cargo into her.'

"`Then we were cleverly done!' exclaimed our commander, stamping his
foot with vexation.  `The very fellow old Futlock thought looked so
honest that he would not take the trouble to board him.  It is the very
last time in my life that I will trust to outside appearances.'

"All hands of us aboard the cutter felt very foolish when we found that
we had lost so good a chance of taking one of the richest prizes we were
ever likely to fall in with.  However, revenue officers must have all
their seven senses wide awake to compass the artful dodges of determined