he vowed to himself that that
beautiful gold piece should not be hastily spent, but that he would
keep it as long as possible in memory of the giver, and the reason for
the gift.

It was one of the West India Islands they were approaching, and as they
passed within half-a-league its wealth of tropical vegetation presented
so pleasing a picture that the passengers besought the captain to make
a landing in one of the tempting coves, so that they might have a run
on shore, and probably get some fruit. But he was a surly fellow, and
refused the request with an oath, saying that he was sick of the whole
lot of them, and wanted to be rid of them with as little delay as
possible.

So the _Bonnie Scotland_ kept on her course, leaving the lovely islands
astern, and out of sight as she passed into the wide expanse of the
Caribbean Sea.

Coarse and brutal as he was, her captain understood navigation, and
knew how to get the best out of the old hulk of which he had command.
Now, as the end of the voyage drew near, and the seas seemed kind, he
cracked on all the sail the ship would carry, greatly to the delight of
Donalblane, who loved to have the vessel plunging along at full speed.

More than half the breadth of the sea had been traversed when the
look-out one morning shouted--

"Sail ho! Sail ho!"

"Where away?" roared the captain from the poop.

"Right abeam, and coming towards us," was the response after a moment's
hesitation.

At once there was much excitement on board. The members of the
expedition took it for granted that this was one of the other ships
from which they had long parted company, and began to speculate which
one it was, and whether it would overtake them.

"I was hoping ours would be the first vessel to reach Darien," said Mr.
Sutherland to Donalblane. "It would be something to boast of
considering what a poor thing she is. I wonder which one of the others
this is?"

"Ye canna tell so far away," responded Donalblane. "Maybe it winna
catch us. We're sailing fine now."

The _Bonnie Scotland_ certainly was doing wonders, but in spite of
every inch of canvas her sticks could carry being spread, the other
ship gained steadily, and the captain's grim countenance grew darker
and darker.

Mr. Paterson's fine features also became perturbed, although he kept
his own counsel, and those who noticed supposed he was simply anxious
that the _Bonnie Scotland_ should win the race to Darien.

As the aft