m with
every soul in her."

Blair listened intently to this conversation. Too many times had he been
to and fro with his father in his pilot's duty not to know well the
dangerous channel. Every crook and turn in it was as familiar to him as
the windings of the little path in his mother's flower-garden. The boy
stood erect with growing determination as the speakers went on.

"She makes for the shore. She'll surely run on the rocks if a pilot
don't go to her. If Joe Robertson were only here. What business had a
man of his age going off to the war, instead of staying to look after
the harbor of his own town?"

"He has left his son to take his place," said Blair quickly. "I know the
channel. I am not afraid. I will just speak to my mother, and then I'm
off."

In a few hurried words the son told his design to the mother who
understood him so well. "May I go?" he added; "I know you will not
refuse."

The mother's eyes filled with tears as she spoke. "I will not keep you,
my noble boy. God bless and watch over you. The true Christian, like his
Master, takes his life in his hand, and goes forth at the call of duty.
The true patriot will risk all for his dear countrymen. Go. My prayers
shall be around you like a guard."

When Blair returned to the wharf it was with his mother at his side. The
little pilot-boat had been made ready. As he jumped into it, another
figure quickly followed him. It was Hal Hutchings. "I must go with you,"
he said with determination. "I can manage a boat. I sha'n't be in the
way. I couldn't stand it to wait on the shore. May-be two of us will be
needed."

Blair gave Hal one cordial grasp of the hand, then hoisted his bit of a
sail, and soon over the wild waves the two boys took their course
together.

"God help that Blair Robertson. He has the making of the right kind of a
man in him," exclaimed a bystander.

"He's _our captain_, Blair is," said one of the youngest members of the
Fairport Guard.

"Who would have thought of Hal's making such a venture?" said Old Jock.
"He's a little skeary about water yet. But I believe he'd die for Blair
Robertson. Whatever takes hold of that Hal Hutchings takes him strong."

The mother's eye followed the little boat as it went dancing over the
waves, but her heart was uplifted in silent prayer.

CHAPTER VII.

NO!

The pilot-boat was nearing the strange vessel, when Blair suddenly
exclaimed, "I see British uniforms on board. We have been tric