ance.

"Ho! got 'im?" asked Ebony, with interest.

Hockins did not reply, but, slowly and tenderly, drew forth--not a quid,
but--a little piece of brown wood about five or six inches long.

"A penny whistle!" exclaimed Mark.

"Speak with reverence, Doctor," returned the sailor, with a quiet smile,
"it ain't a penny whistle, it's a flageolet. I stuck it here the last
time I was amoosin' the crew o' the _Eastern Star_ an' forgot I hadn't
putt it away. Wait a bit, you shall hear."

Saying this Hockins put the tiny instrument to his lips, and drew from
it sounds so sweet, so soft, so melodious and tuneful, that his
companions seemed to listen in a trance of delight, with eyes as well as
with ears!

"Splendid!" exclaimed Mark, enthusiastically, when the sailor ceased to
play. "Why, Hockins, I had no idea you could play like that! Of course
I knew that you possessed musical powers to some extent, for I have
heard the tooting of your flageolet through the bulkheads when at sea;
but two or three inches of plank don't improve sweet sounds, I suppose."

"Ho! massa, didn't I tell you t'ree or four times dat he play mos'
awrful well?"

"True, Ebony, so you did; but I used to think your energetic praise was
due to your enthusiastic disposition, and so paid no attention to your
invitations to go for'ard an' listen. Well, I confess I was a loser.
You must have played the instrument a long time, surely?"--turning to
the seaman.

"Yes, ever since I was a small boy. My father played it before me, and
taught me how to finger it. He was a splendid player. He used
sometimes to go to the back of the door when we had a small blow-out,
an' astonish the company by playin' up unexpectedly. He was great at
Scotch tunes--specially the slow ones, like this."

He put the little instrument to his lips again, and let it nestle, as it
were, in his voluminous beard, as he drew from it the pathetic strains
of "Wanderin' Willie," to the evidently intense enjoyment of Ebony, who
regarded music as one of the chief joys of life--next, perhaps, to
cooking!

But Mark and Ebony were not the only listeners to that sweet strain.
Just outside the mouth of the cave there stood a man, who, to judge from
the expression of his face, was as much affected by the music as the
negro. Though he stood in such a position as to be effectually screened
from the view of those within, a gleam of reflected light fell upon his
figure, showing him to be a ta