tood, the rugged
rock-shelves which came to the water's edge gradually rising to high
hills in the distance. But as they advanced inland the appearance of the
island improved, and signs of human habitation appeared. They had not
gone far before the huts of fishermen and others became visible, planted
in little clearings among the rocks, whose inmates looked with eyes of
curiosity on the strangers. This was particularly the case when they
passed through a small village, at no great distance inland. Of the
three persons, it was the maid-servant, Betty Bruce, that attracted most
attention, her appearance giving rise to some degree of amusement. Nor
was this without reason. The woman was so ungainly in appearance, and
walked with so awkward a stride, that the skirts which clung round her
heels seemed a decided incumbrance to her progress. Her face, too,
presented a roughness that gave hint of possibilities of a beard. She
kept unobtrusively behind her mistress, her peculiar gait set the
goodwives of the village whispering and laughing as they pointed her
out.

For several miles the travellers proceeded, following the general
direction of the coast, and apparently endeavoring to avoid all
collections of human habitations. Now and then, however, they met
persons in the road, who gazed at them with the same curiosity as those
they had already passed.

The scenery before them grew finer as they advanced. Near nightfall they
came near mountainous elevations, abutting on the sea-shore in great
cliffs of columnar basalt, a thousand feet and more in height, over
which leaped here and there waterfalls of great height and beauty. Their
route now lay along the base of these cliffs, on the narrow strip of
land between them and the sea.

Here they paused, just as the sun was shedding its last rays upon the
water. Seating themselves on some protruding boulders, they entered into
conversation, the fair Flora's face presenting an expression of doubt
and trouble.

"I do not like the looks of the people," she said. "They watch you too
closely. And we are still in the country of Sir Alexander, a land filled
with our enemies. If you were only a better imitation of a woman."

"Faith, I fear I'm but an awkward sample," answered Betty, in a voice of
man-like tone. "I have been doing my best, but----"

"But the lion cannot change his skin," supplied the lady. "This will not
do. We must take other measures. But our first duty is to find the