ll cam aboord. The sun gaed loon a' bluidy, an' belyve
the morn rose unco mirk an' dreary, wi' bullers (rollers) frae the west
like muckle sowthers (soldiers) wi' white plumes. I tauld the captain
'twas a' the faut o' Maxwell. I ne'er cad bide the blellum. Dour an' din
he was, wi' ae girn like th' auld hornie. But the captain wadna hark to
my rede when I tauld him naught but dool wad cooin o' taking Mungo."

It seemed that John Paul, contrary to MacMuir's advice, had shipped as
carpenter on the voyage out--near seven months since--a man by the name
of Mungo Maxwell. The captain's motive had nothing in it but kindness,
and a laudable desire to do a good turn to a playmate of his boyhood. As
MacMuir said, "they had gaed barefit thegither amang the braes." The
man hailed from Kirkbean, John Paul's own parish. But he had within
him little of the milk of kindness, being in truth a sour and mutinous
devil; and instead of the gratitude he might have shown, he cursed the
fate that had placed him under the gardener's son, whom he deemed no
better than himself. The John had scarce cleared the Solway before
Maxwell showed signs of impudence and rebellion.

The crew was three-fourths made of Kirkcudbright men who had known the
master from childhood, many of them, indeed, being older than he; they
were mostly jealous of Paul, envious of the command he had attained
to over them, and impatient under the discipline he was ever ready to
inflict. 'Tis no light task to enforce obedience from those with whom
one has birdnested. But, having more than once felt the weight of his
hand, they feared him.

Dissatisfaction among such spreads apace, if a leader is but given; and
Maxwell was such a one. His hatred for John Paul knew no bounds, and,
having once tasted of his displeasure, he lay awake o' nights scheming
to ruin him. And this was the plot: when the Azores should be in the
wake, Captain Paul was to be murdered as he paced his quarterdeck in the
morning, the two mates clapt into irons, and so brought to submission.
And Maxwell, who had no more notion of navigation than a carpenter
should, was to take the John to God knows where,--the Guinea coast,
most probably. He would have no more navy regulations on a merchant
brigantine, he promised them, nor banyan days, for the matter o' that.

Happily, MacMuir himself discovered the affair on the eve of its
perpetration, overhearing two men talking in the breadroom, and he
ran to the cabin wi