oment, was in danger of deteriorating. He was
miserable; the Devil suggested to him, "make others miserable too;" and
he listened to the advice.

There was a fine breeze, but instead of sailing on a wind, as he might
have done, he made a series of tacks, and all were ill.

The earnest man first; and Flucker announced the skipper's insanity to
the whole town of Newhaven, for, of course, these tacks were all marine
solecisms.

The other discontented Picnician was Christie Johnstone. Gatty never
came; and this, coupled with five or six days' previous neglect, could
no longer pass unnoticed.

Her gayety failed her before the afternoon was ended; and the last two
hours were spent by her alone, watching the water on all sides for him.

At last, long after the departure of his lordship's yacht, the Newhaven
boat sailed from Inch Coombe with the wedding party. There was now a
strong breeze, and the water every now and then came on board. So the
men set the foresail with two reefs, and drew the mainsail over the
women; and there, as they huddled together in the dark, Jean Carnie
discovered that our gay story-teller's eyes were wet with tears.

Jean said nothing; she embraced her; and made them flow faster.

But, when they came alongside the pier, Jean, who was the first to
get her head from under the sail, whipped it back again and said to
Christie:

"Here he is, Christie; dinna speak till him."

And sure enough there was, in the twilight, with a pale face and an
uneasy look--Mr. Charles Gatty!

He peered timidly into the boat, and, when he saw Christie, an "Ah!"
that seemed to mean twenty different things at once, burst from his
bosom. He held out his arm to assist her.

She cast on him one glance of mute reproach, and, placing her foot
on the boat's gunwale, sprang like an antelope upon the pier, without
accepting his assistance.

Before going further, we must go back for this boy, and conduct him from
where we left him up to the present point.

The moment he found himself alone with Jean Carnie, in his own house, he
began to tell her what trouble he was in; how his mother had convinced
him of his imprudence in falling in love with Christie Johnstone; and
how she insisted on a connection being broken off which had given him
his first glimpse of heaven upon earth, and was contrary to common
sense.

Jean heard him out, and then, with the air of a lunatic-asylum keeper to
a rhodomontading patient, told him "he w