and down the river."

"Yes; but hope for the best, man; hope for the best. Remember the bit
of blue that comes in the wind's eye often enough when we're in the
worst part of a gale."

"Ay, sir, that's what I do--hope for the best, and that if my poor young
master, who was as fine a lad as ever stepped, is done for, I may some
day find out who it was that hit that blow, and pay it back."

"No, Solly," said Captain Lawrence sternly. "An English sailor does not
take revenge in cold blood for what was done in hot. Never! There, I
must get off, and in a few days I hope to be back to see my old friend
again. Meanwhile, I know he's in good hands, and that he would not wish
to be watched over by any one better than William Solly, his old
companion in many a trouble of the past."

"It's very kind o' you to say so, sir," said Solly humbly.

"I only speak the truth, my man," said the visitor. "I have seen a
great deal, and Captain Revel has told me more, about what a faithful
servant you have been to him. Do all you can to comfort him, for he is
terribly changed."

The tears were in old Solly's eyes, and there seemed to be a kink in his
throat, as he said huskily:

"Awful, sir. I was a-saying on'y the other day, when the skipper was
wherriting hisself about losing a few salmon, and raging and blowing all
over the place, that he wanted a real trouble to upset him, and that
then he wouldn't go so half-mad-like about a pack o' poachers working
the pool. But I little thought then that the real bad trouble was
coming so soon; and it has altered him, sewer-ly. Poor Master Nic--poor
dear lad! Seems on'y t'other day as I used to carry him sittin' with
his little bare legs over my two shoulders, and him holding on tight by
my curly hair. Yes, sir, you look; it is smooth and shiny up aloft now,
but I had a lot o' short, curly hair then, just like an old Calabar
nigger's. And now, on'y to think of it."

"No, don't think of it, my lad, for we are not certain, and we will not
give up hope. There, good-bye, Solly, my man. Shake hands."

"Shake--hands, sir--with you, cap'n?"

"No, not with the captain, but with the man who looks upon you as an old
friend."

The next minute Solly was alone, rubbing his fist first in one eye and
then in the other, twisting the big bony knuckle of his forefinger round
so as to squeeze the moisture out.

"Well now," he said, "just look at that! What an old fool I am! Well,
if I didn'