e this Miss Jones," said Miss Cooper amiably,
as they sat at dinner.

"She'll be on the quay, waving her handkerchief to him," said the mate.
"We'll be in to-morrow afternoon, and then you'll see her."

As it happened, the mate was a few hours out in his reckoning, for by
the time the Falcon's bows were laid for the small harbour it was quite
dark, and the little schooner glided in, guided by the two lights which
marked the entrance. The quay, seen in the light of a few scattered
lamps, looked dreary enough, and, except for two or three indistinct
figures, appeared to be deserted. Beyond, the broken lights of the town
stood out more clearly as the schooner crept slowly over the dark water
towards her berth.

"Fine night, cap'n," said the watchman, as the schooner came gently
alongside the quay.

The skipper grunted assent. He was peering anxiously at the quay.

"It's too late," said the mate. "You couldn't expect her this time
o'night. It's ten o'clock."

"I'll go over in the morning," said Evans, who, now that things had been
adjusted, was secretly disappointed that Miss Cooper had not witnessed
the meeting. "If you're not going ashore, we might have a hand o' cards
as soon's we're made fast."

The mate assenting, they went below, and were soon deep in the mysteries
of three-hand cribbage. Evans, who was a good player, surpassed himself,
and had just won the first game, the others being nowhere, when a head
was thrust down the companion-way, and a voice like a strained foghorn
called the captain by name.

"Ay, ay!" yelled Evans, laying down his hand.

"I'll come down, cap'n," said the voice, and the mate just had time to
whisper "Old Jones" to Miss Cooper, when a man of mighty bulk filled up
the doorway of the little cabin, and extended a huge paw to Evans and
the mate. He then looked at the lady, and, breathing hard, waited.

"Young lady o' the mate's," said Evans breathlessly,--"Miss Cooper. Sit
down, cap'n. Get the gin out, Bill."

"Not for me," said Captain Jones firmly, but with an obvious effort.

The surprise of Evans and the mate admitted of no concealment; but it
passed unnoticed by their visitor, who, fidgeting in his seat, appeared
to be labouring with some mysterious problem. After a long pause, during
which all watched him anxiously, he reached over the table and shook
hands with Evans again.

"Put it there, cap'n," said Evans, much affected by this token of
esteem.

The old man rose and