an do thee nae harm."

"But her father favors Ragon, an' of me he thinks nae mair than o' the
nets, or aught else that finds his boats for sea."

"Well an' good; but no talking can alter facts. Thou must now choose
atween thy mother an' Margaret Fae, atween right an' wrang. God doesna
leave that choice i' the dark; thy way may be narrow an' unpleasant,
but it is clear enough. Dost thou fear to walk i' it?"

"There hae been words mair than plenty, Christine. Let us go hame."

Silently the little boat drifted across the smooth bay, and silently
the brother and sister stood a moment looking up the empty, flagged
street of the sleeping town. The strange light, which was neither
gloaming nor dawning, but a mixture of both, the waving boreal
banners, the queer houses, gray with the storms of centuries, the
brown undulating heaths, and the phosphorescent sea, made a strangely
solemn picture which sank deep into their hearts. After a pause,
Christine went into the house, but John sat down on the stone bench to
think over the alternatives before him.

Now the power of training up a child in the way it should go asserted
itself. It became at once a fortification against self-will. John
never had positively disobeyed his mother's explicit commands; he
found it impossible to do so. He must offer his services to Paul
Calder in the morning, and try to trust Margaret Fae's love for him.

He had determined now to do right, but he did not do it very
pleasantly--it is a rare soul that grows sweeter in disappointments.
Both mother and sister knew from John's stern, silent ways that he had
chosen the path of duty, and they expected that he would make it a
valley of Baca. This Dame Alison accepted as in some sort her desert.
"I ought to hae forbid the lad three years syne," she said
regretfully; "aft ill an' sorrow come o' sich sinfu' putting aff.
There's nae half-way house atween right an' wrang."

Certainly the determination involved some unpleasant explanations to
John. He must first see old Peter Fae and withdraw himself from his
service. He found him busy in loading a small vessel with smoked geese
and kippered fish, and he was apparently in a very great passion.
Before John could mention his own matters, Peter burst into a torrent
of invectives against another of his sailors, who, he said, had given
some information to the Excise which had cost him a whole cargo of
Dutch specialties. The culprit was leaning against a hogshead,