Adam could
hold back no longer what he had come to say.

"You'll see your father before you sail," he said, "and I'm thinking
he'll give you a better reason for going than he has given to me;
but, if not, and Bishop Petersen and the Latin School is all his end
and intention, remember our good Manx saying that 'learning is fine
clothes to the rich man, and riches to the poor one.' And that minds
me," he said, plunging deep into his pocket, "of another good Manx
saying, that 'there are just two bad pays--pay beforehand and no pay
at all;' so to save you from both, who have earned yourself neither,
put you this old paper into your fob--and God bless ye!"

So saying, he thrust into the lad's hand a roll of fifty Manx pound
notes, and then seemed about to whip away. But Michel Sunlocks had
him by the sleeve before he could turn his horse's head.

"Bless me yourself," the lad said.

And then Adam Fairbrother, with all his poor bankrupt whimseys gone
from his upturned face, now streaming wet, and with his white hair
gently lifted by the soft morning breeze, rose in the saddle and laid
his hand on Michael's drooping head and blessed him. And so they
parted, not soon to meet again, or until many a strange chance had
befallen both.

It was on the morning of the day following that Michael Sunlocks rode
into Port-y-Vullin. If he could have remembered how he had left it,
as an infant in his father's arms, perhaps the task he had set
himself would have been an easier one. He was trying to crush down
his shame, and it was very hard to do. He was thinking that go where
he would he must henceforth bear his father's name.

Stephen Orry was waiting for him, having been there three days, not
living in the little hut, but washing it, cleaning it, drying it,
airing it, and kindling fires in it, that by such close labor of half
a week it might be worthy that his son should cross its threshold for
half an hour. He had never slept in it since he had nailed up the
door after the death of Liza Killey, and as an unblessed place it had
been safe from the intrusion of others.

He saw Michael Sunlocks riding up, and raised his cap to him as he
alighted, saying, "Sir" to him, and bowing as he did so. There were
deep scars on his face and head, his hands were scratched and
discolored, his cheeks were furrowed with wrinkles, and about his
whole person there was a strong odor as of tobacco, tar, and bilge
water.

"I shall not have ought to as