to set it right, and drank to the health of both of
them.

[Illustration: "Mr. Wilks drank to the health of both of them."]

The wind had abated somewhat in violence as they walked home, and,
moreover, they had their backs to it. The walk was slower and more
enjoyable in many respects than the walk out. In an unusually soft mood
she replied to his remarks and stole little critical glances up at him.
When they reached the house she stood a little while at the gate gazing
at the starry sky and listening to the crash of the sea on the beach.

"It is a fine night," she said, as she shook hands.

"The best I have ever known," said Hardy. "Good-bye."

CHAPTER XVII

The weeks passed all too quickly for James Hardy. He saw Kate Nugent at
her own home; met her, thanks to the able and hearty assistance of Mr.
Wilks, at Fullalove Alley, and on several occasions had the agreeable
task of escorting her back home.

He cabled to his father for news of the illustrious stowaway immediately
the _Conqueror_ was notified as having reached Port Elizabeth. The
reply--"Left ship"--confirmed his worst fears, but he cheerfully accepted
Mrs. Kingdom's view that the captain, in order to relieve the natural
anxiety of his family, had secured a passage on the first vessel homeward
bound.

Captain Hardy was the first to reach home. In the early hours of a fine
April morning the _Conqueror_ steamed slowly into Sunwich Harbour, and in
a very short time the town was revelling in a description of Captain
Nugent's first voyage before the mast from lips which were never tired of
repeating it. Down by the waterside Mr. Nathan Smith found that he had
suddenly attained the rank of a popular hero, and his modesty took alarm
at the publicity afforded to his action. It was extremely distasteful to
a man who ran a quiet business on old-fashioned lines and disbelieved in
advertisement. He lost three lodgers the same day.

[Illustration: "A popular hero."]

Jem Hardy was one of the few people in Sunwich for whom the joke had no
charms, and he betrayed such an utter lack of sympathy with his father's
recital that the latter accused him at last of wanting a sense of humour.

"I don't see anything amusing in it," said his son, stiffly.

Captain Hardy recapitulated one or two choice points, and was even at
some pains to explain them.

"I can't see any fun in it," repeated his son. "Your behaviour seems to
me to have been deplorable."