t made me forget all else, until suddenly
I became conscious of a presence at my side, and turned to behold the
captain.

"'Tis a braw sight, Richard," said he, "but no sae bonnie as auld
Scotland. An' the wind hands, we shall see her shores the morn."

His voice broke, and I looked again to see two great tears rolling upon
his cheeks.

"Ah, Scotland!" he pressed on, heedless of them, "God aboon kens what
she is to me! But she hasna' been ower guid to me, laddie." And he
walked to the taffrail, and stood looking astern that two men who
had come aft to splice a haulyard might not perceive his disorder. I
followed him, emboldened to speak at last what was in me.

"Captain Paul," said I, "MacMuir has told me of your trouble. My
grandfather is rich, and not lacking in gratitude,"--here I paused for
suitable words, as I could not solve his expression,--"you, sir, whose
bravery and charity will have restored me to him, shall not want for
friends and money."

He heard me through.

"Mr. Carvel," he replied with an impressiveness that took me aback,
"reward is a thing that should not be spoken of between gentlemen."

And thus he left me, upbraiding myself that I should have mentioned
money. And yet, I reflected secondly, why not? He was no more nor less
than a master of a merchantman, and surely nothing was out of the common
in such a one accepting what he had honestly come by. Had my affection
for him been less sincere, had I not been racked with sympathy, I had
laughed over his notions of gentility. I resolved, however, that when
I had reached London and seen Mr. Dix, Mr. Carvel's agent, he should be
rewarded despite his scruples. And if he lost his ship, he should have
one of my grandfather's.

But at dinner he had plainly forgot any offence, and I had more
cause than ever to be puzzled over his odd mixture of confidence and
aloofness. He talked gayly on a score of subjects,--on dress, of which
he was never tired, and described ports in the Indies and South America,
in a fashion that betrayed prodigious powers of acute observation; nor
did he lack for wit when he spoke of the rich planters who had wined
him, and had me much in laughter. We fell into a merry mood, in Booth,
jingling the glasses in many toasts, for he had a list of healths to
make me gasp, near as long as the brigantine's articles,--Inez in Havana
and Maraquita in Cartagena, and Clotilde, the Creole, of Martinico, each
had her separate charm. Then the