we shall hear in God's good time," commented
George. "Back water with your starboard oar, Tom, and pull larboard, or
you'll smash in the bows of the boat against the steps. So! way enough.
Haul her to and let me get out. If I am not mistaken there is my
mother waiting for me under the verandah. Thanks! Good night, Tom, and
put that in your pocket for luck."

So saying the young man handed Tom a ducat, and sprang out of the boat,
up the landing steps, and made his way rapidly up the steep garden path
toward the house, beneath the verandah of which a female figure could be
dimly seen by the sheen of the lighted windows. As George Saint Leger
neared the brow of the slope upon which The Nest was built, this same
female figure ran down the verandah steps to meet him, and a moment
later he and his mother were locked in each other's arms.

"My boy, my boy!" crooned Mrs Saint Leger as she nestled in her son's
embrace and tiptoed up to kiss the lips that sought her own--"welcome
home again, a thousand welcomes! I saw the ship while she was yet
outside Saint Nicholas Island and, with the help of the perspective
glass that you brought me from Genoa, was able to recognise her as the
_Bonaventure_. And later, when she rounded the point and entered the
Pool, I saw you standing beside Captain Burroughs on the poop, and so
knew that all was well with you. Come in, my dear, and let me look at
you. Supper is all ready and waiting, and there is a fine big coal fire
blazing in the dining-room, for I knew you would feel the air chilly
after that of the Mediterranean."

A moment later the pair entered the warm, cosy dining-room, and stood
intently regarding each other by the light of a candelabrum which
occupied the centre of the handsomely appointed table. And while they
stand thus, with their hands upon each other's shoulders, each
scrutinising the face of the other, we may seize the opportunity to make
the acquaintance of both; for with one of them at least we purpose to
participate in many a strange scene and stirring adventure in those
western Indies, the wonders and fabulous wealth of which were just
beginning to be made known to Englishmen through that redoubtable rover
and slaver, Captain John Hawkins.

Mrs Saint Leger was a small, somewhat delicate and fragile-looking
woman, just turned forty-six years of age, yet, although people seemed
to age a great deal more quickly in those days than in these, and
although, as t