a
head of shaggy hair which might have been elegant had it been combed,
oiled, curled, and dyed, and a general appearance which might have been
prepossessing had it not been that of a thorough blackguard. This
lovely specimen of humanity sat down on a rock, and waited, and
fidgeted; and the expression of his sweet face betrayed, from time to
time, that he was impatient, and anything but easy in his mind.

As Jack walked very leisurely and stopped frequently to play, his
progress towards the pass was slow, and as our waiting friend, whom the
reader no doubt recognises as the gypsy, could not see far along the
road in that direction, he was not aware of his approach. On the other
hand, the sailor-boy came on fast, and the road was so open and straight
in that direction that the gypsy saw him when he was far enough away to
seem like a mere blue spot in the distance.

Presently he gained the entrance to the pass and began the ascent, which
was gradual, with a riotous windlass song, in which the sentiments, yo!
heave! and ho! were most frequently expressed. As he drew near, the
gypsy might have been observed to grin a smile that would have been
quite captivating but for some obstinate peculiarity about the muscles
of the mouth which rendered it very repulsive.

Next moment the sailor-boy was abreast of him. The moment after that
the bushes parted, and the gypsy confronted his victim, cutting a
tremendous "heave!" short in the middle, and converting the "ho!" that
should have followed, into a prolonged whistle of astonishment.

"Hah! my lad, you remember me, it seems?"

"Remember you? Yes, I just do!" answered the boy, in whose countenance
every trace of boyishness was instantly swallowed up in an intense gaze
of manly determination.

This mute but meaning glance had such a strange effect upon the gypsy
that he actually cowered for a moment, and looked as if he were afraid
he was going to "catch it." However, he forced a laugh and said--

"Come, Billy, you needn't look so cross. You know I was hard put to it
w'en I sent you aboord the `Fair Nancy,' and you shouldn't ought to owe
me a grudge for puttin' ye in the way o' makin' yer fortin'."

The man kept edging towards the boy as he spoke, but the boy observed
this and kept edging away, regarding the man with compressed lips and
dilated eyes, but not vouchsafing a word in reply.

"I say, Billy, it's unkind, you know, to forget old times like this. I
want to s