e sea, Captain!"

"To be sure, I was born on it and, please God, I hope my death may be
from it and my grave in it, nearby some coast where the fisher-folk live
happily around me."

There was a few moments' silence, then John Hatton asked, "Are we likely
to have fine weather now?"

"Yes, sir, middling fine, until we pass Peterhead. At Aberdeen and
southward it may be still finer, and you might have a grand sail along
the east coast of Scotland and take a look at some of its famous towns."

This pleasant prospect was amply verified. It was soon blue seas and
white sea-birds and sunny skies, with a nice little whole-sail breeze in
the right direction. But John was not lured by any of the storied towns
of the east coast. "What time I can now spare I will give to Edinburgh,"
he said, in answer to the Captain's suggestion concerning St. Andrews,
Aberdeen, Anstruther and Largo. "I am straight for Edinburgh now. I feel
as if my holiday was over. I heard the clack of the looms this morning.
They need me, I dare say. I suppose we can be in Leith harbor by
Saturday night, Captain?"

"It may be Sunday, sir, if this wind holds. It is an east-windy
west-windy coast, and between here and Edinburgh the wind doesn't know
its own mind an hour at a time."

"Well, then, say Sunday. I will stay a few days in Edinburgh, and then
it must be Whitby and home."

It was Sunday afternoon when the yacht was snug in Leith harbor, and the
streets of Edinburgh were full of congregations returning home from the
different churches. He went to an hotel on Prince Street and ordered a
good dinner spread in his sitting-room. It was a large outlooking
apartment, showing him in the glorious sunset the Old Town piled as by a
dreamer, story over story, and at the top of this dream-like hill, the
gray ancient castle with bugles and the roll of drums sounding behind
its ramparts. Bridges leaped across a valley edged with gardens
connecting the Old Town with the New Town. Wherever his eyes fell, all
was romance and memories of romance, a magically

Towered, templed Metropolitan,
Waited upon by hills,
River, and wide-spread ocean; tinged
By April light, or draped and fringed
As April vapor wills.
Hanging like some vast Cyclops' dream
High in the shifting weather gleam.

After dinner he sat at the open window, thinking of many things, until
he finally fell asleep to dream of that illuminated vault in the castle,
in whic