had taught his father before him.

The Fletchers, three generations of whom manned the fishing-trawler,
were decent folk, with a keen eye to the main-chance, or what some
people consider to be such--namely, making as much money as possible.
The sky had clouded over somewhat, and it was darkish as the
'Aurora'--known locally as the 'Roarer'--the chief of the Northbourne
fishing-boats, put out for the night's work. Ned, glancing at the
Bunk, could see the twinkling lights from its several windows reflected
in the calm waters below. He wondered what Muster Alick was up to at
that time of evening. 'He ain't learnin' of his lessons, that's sure,'
thought Ned, with an uneasy recollection of the story of the rebellious
outbreak in the schoolroom; for Alick had poured his indignant version
of the same into the ears of his humble comrade. 'Happen he've got
hold of a fresh travel-book.' Then Ned's thoughts easily slipped off
to the subject of other 'travel-books' devoured by Alick and retailed
to himself. He pictured vividly, as the 'Roarer' swished through the
dark waters, a far different scene to that of the quiet Northbourne
bay. A scene made up of dangers by land and dangers by sea; of wide,
lonely floes of ice, their white gleam darkening into the gloom of the
mysterious distance as yet untrodden by human feet. Ned's pulses never
failed to beat like hammers when such thought-pictures dangled
themselves before his mind's vision. He forgot in the entrancing dream
the outbreak at the Bunk; forgot the holiday to be stolen on the morrow
in Brattlesby Woods, and the deception practised on Miss Theedory;
forgot, for the first time, the 'bit o' a prayer' taught him by
faithful old Goody to say when his nights were passed on the deep.

CHAPTER X

UNDER ARREST

Tuesday morning had come and gone. Philip Price, the tutor, sat in the
dining-room of the Bunk with but one pupil facing him at the table.
Geoff, faithful to his promise, had apologised in a manly,
straightforward fashion for his unruly behaviour on the day of the
'Great Rebellion,' as the Carnegys had secretly christened their
outbreak. No sooner had the boy so done than he was freely forgiven.
But Alick flatly refused to sue for pardon, when confronted with his
offended tutor, spite of Theo's tearful entreaties. Stubbornly the
wrong-headed, wrong-hearted boy held out.

'Very good!' dryly said Mr. Price, after waiting in vain. 'Then, until
you see fit