his invitation I took my place in the stern-sheets of his boat, it
was not without uneasiness I observed Captain Hargreaves draw him
aside and whisper to him earnestly, and on his taking his place I
saw his humour was altered.

He ordered his men to give way in a voice that suggested the clap
of a prison door, and his first words to me were scarce reassuring:

"You are from the Border, you say, Mr. Johnstone? Possibly from
the northern side?"

[Illustration: "He ordered his men to give way in a voice that
suggested the clap of a prison door."]

"Yes," I answered, seeing what was before me, and cursing the ill
luck that had drawn me into such a trap, but determined to put a
bold face on it. "Yes, I am from Kirksmuir, beyond Lanark."

"Then you may know my midshipman here, Mr. Lockhart, of Carnwath?"
and he indicated a lad about eighteen beside me.

My heart sank within me, for this very boy's elder brother had
unfortunately been drawn into this unhappy rebellion, and with him
I had been intimate. I had been a constant guest at his father's
house, and it was impossible to tell what this youngster might have
heard.

"Mr. Lockhart's family is honourably known, sir, throughout our
country, and I doubt not he can speak equally well of my own," I
returned, in my best manner, and fortunately for me the lad was
either so bashful, or so busily employed in racking his brain to
puzzle out what family mine was, that he could make no reply, and
I went on, with my most careless air:

"Surely, Captain Galway, it is unnecessary to keep so far down with
the tide as it sets. I would not take you out of your way for the
world."

"Oh, nonsense!" he cried, with a poor attempt at heartiness. "You
shall come on board. We too seldom meet with one of your quality
to part so easily. You must make your excuses to your friends. Say
you were kept a prisoner." And he laughed loudly at his wit.

Good heavens! how I despised the man who could make a jest of a
fellow-creature in such a strait! Had I been a swimmer, I would
have taken the chance of a plunge over the side; but in my case
that would have been little short of suicide.

"Come, sir, come! You make a poor return for my offer of hospitality,"
he continued, banteringly; "you are not at all the same man I took
you for at the inn."

"Pardon me," I returned, quickly, for his last remark spurred me
to my utmost effort, "you gentlemen who go down to the sea in ships
forget that we l