ven to himself, and
he would have found it impossible to mention them to any human being.

Mr Jamieson, more than once, had spoken to him of the future, and
hinted that if the way was open to him, he would scarcely fail, with the
talents and application he possessed, of rising in life. It was very
natural in Mr Jamieson to think this, for he knew that a fisher-boy's
existence on the west coast of Ireland was one of ill-requited toil, and
of great danger. Holding this opinion, he felt that the boy would not
change for the worse, and would certainly improve his position in
whatever calling he might engage.

CHAPTER FOUR.

One afternoon, when it was blowing too hard to allow Dermot to put to
sea in his boat, he had gone to the vicarage to obtain his usual
instruction, carrying with him some fish he had caught, as a present to
the vicar's niece. After he had received his instruction and was about
to take his departure, Miss O'Reilly called him back to thank him for
the fish which he had brought her.

"By-the-bye!" observed Mr Jamieson, "Dermot can take the pony which I
wish to send for young Lord Fitz Barry, and the cloak which he left here
the other day."

Dermot had not often ridden; but where is the Irish boy who would not
undertake to mount the most fiery steed, if he was asked to do so?

He gladly promised to take the pony and cloak to the castle. It was
already late in the day, but he observed that "that did not matter," as
it must be a dark night in which he could not find his way home. The
pony was, however, in the field, and some more time elapsed before he
was caught. Miss O'Reilly then bethought her, that Dermot had been a
long time without food, and insisted on his taking some before he set
off in that blustering evening. It was thus almost dark before he left
the vicarage for the castle. He looked down on the bay: the frigate
still lay at anchor there, the wind being still from the north.

"If the wind shifts a little more to the west, she will have to put to
sea," thought Dermot. "It will not do for her to remain in the bay with
the wind blowing in from the west, and with such often rolls in here,
enough to cast the stoutest ship high upon the beach, or to dash her to
fragments should she touch the rocks."

Dermot rode on, not, however, very fast, as the little animal was
unwilling to leave his own home, not guessing the comfortable quarters
to which he was bound. The wind brought up a h