lan's face at that.

"Sure, a kind heart bes a grand t'ing," he said,--"and so bes sharp wits
an' hard hands!"

They turned and went down the path. Mother Nolan met the skipper just
inside the door, with the big wooden spoon from the stew-pot dripping in
her hand. Her black eyes looked blacker and keener than usual as they
met those of her grandson.

"So here ye be, safe back from Witless Bay," she said. "Ye didn't waste
a minute, Denny."

"Sure I didn't," returned the skipper, quickly. "It beed fair weather
an' fair goin' all the way an' one little letter bain't much o' a pack
to tote. How be ye all, Granny? How bes the lass from the wrack?"

"Grand altogether," said the old woman, returning to the stove and the
pot of stew.

"Aye," said young Cormick, "she was singin' to-day fit to drag the heart
o' ye out t'rough yer ears. Sure, Denny, if ye heard a fairy singin'
'twould sound no grander!"

"Aye, like a fairy," agreed the old woman, wagging her head. "I bain't
wonderin' a mite at how she brought the salt tears a-hoppin' out o' the
eyes o' the blessed Queen herself! An' she was that happy, Denny,
a-t'inkin' o' how her letter to up-along was safe an' sure on its way,
that didn't she have Pat Kavanagh down wid his fiddle, an' atween the
two o' 'em they made the finest music was ever heard on this coast. Her
heart bes fair set on up-along, Denny, an' on what she calls her career,
meanin' songs an' glory an' money an' her name on the lips o' men."

The skipper was silent for a moment after that, staring at the floor. He
raised his eyes to the old woman and found that she was gazing at him
fixedly.

"Sure, an' why for not?" he said. "An' what bes she doin' now?"

"Sleepin'," replied Mother Nolan. "Sleepin' an' dreamin' o' up-along an'
all her grand friends."

A scowl darkened the skipper's eyes and brow, but he had no remark to
make on the matter of the lady's dreams. He threw aside his outer coat,
ate his supper, smoked his pipe, and at last retired to his bed. In the
meantime, Nick Leary had taken word to Pat and Mary Kavanagh that the
skipper was home in Chance Along, safe and sound, having missed Dick
Lynch by shaping his course westward to spy out timber. Mary's face
brightened at the news. Pat glanced at her, then nodded his tangled head
toward Leary.

"The skipper bes still alive an' the letter bes gone on its way," he
said. "So, come spring, they be takin' that singin' lady wid the eyes o'
magic awa