t a shove, that sent it several yards off.

"Give way, lads," cried the officer, who was delighted at this
unexpected change in affairs, though he had only heard enough of the
conversation to confuse him as to the cause of it.

"Stop! stop!" shouted Spink, tossing up his arms.

"I'd rather not," returned the officer.

Davy seized the oars, and, turning his boat in the direction of the
gig, endeavoured to overtake it, As well might the, turkey-buzzard
attempt to catch the swallow. He was left far behind, and when last
seen faintly through the fog, he was standing up in the stern of the
boat wringing his hands.

Ruby had seated himself in the bow of the gig, with his face turned
steadily towards the sea, so that no one could see it. This position
he maintained in silence until the boat ranged up to what appeared
like the side of a great mountain, looming through the mist.

Then he turned round, and, whatever might have been the struggle
within his breast, all traces of it had left his countenance, which
presented its wonted appearance of good-humoured frankness.

We need scarcely say that the mountain turned out to be a British
man-of-war. Ruby was quickly introduced to his future messmates, and
warmly received by them. Then he was left to his own free will during
the remainder of that day, for the commander of the vessel was a kind
man, and did not like to add to the grief of the impressed men by
setting them to work at once.

Thus did our hero enter the Royal Navy; and many a long and weary day
and month passed by before he again set foot in his native town.

CHAPTER XXVII

OTHER THINGS BESIDES MURDER "WILL OUT"

Meanwhile Davy Spink, with his heart full, returned slowly to the
shore.

He was long of reaching it, the boat being very heavy for one man to
pull. On landing he hurried up to his poor little cottage, which was
in a very low part of the town, and in a rather out-of-the-way corner
of that part.

"Janet," said he, flinging himself into a rickety old armchair that
stood by the fireplace, "the press-gang has catched us at last, and
they've took Big Swankie away, and, worse than that----"

"Oh!" cried Janet, unable to wait far more, "that's the best news
I've heard for mony a day. Ye're sure they have him safe?"

"Ay, sure enough," said Spink dryly; "but ye needna be sae glad aboot
it, for Swankie was aye good to _you_."

"Ay, Davy," cried Janet, putting her arm round her husband's neck,