e that a man of his powers should set store
by such trumpery, and, too, that these notions had not impaired his
ability as a seaman. I did not reply. He gave no heed, however, but drew
from a case a number of odes and compositions, which he told me were
his own. They were addressed to various of his enamouritas, abounded in
orrery, and were all, I make no doubt, incredibly fine, tho' not so
much as one sticks in my mind. To speak truth I listened with a very ill
grace, longing the while to be on deck, for we were about to sight the
Isle of Man. The wine and the air of the cabin had made my eyes heavy.
But presently, when he had run through with some dozen or more, he put
them by, and with a quick motion got from his chair, a light coming into
his dark eyes that startled me to attention. And I forgot the merchant
captain, and seemed to be looking forward into the years.

"Mark you, Richard," said he, "mark well when I say that my time will
come, and a day when the best of them will bow to me. And every ell of
that triumph shall be mine, sir,-ay, every inch!"

Such was his force, which sprang from some hidden fire within him, that
I believed his words as firmly as they had been writ down in the Book of
Isaiah. Brimming over with enthusiasm, I pledged his coming greatness in
a reaming glass of Malaga.

"Alack," he cried, "an' they all had your faith, laddie, a fig for the
prophecy! Ya maun ken th' incentive's the maist o' the battle."

There was more of wisdom in this than I dreamed of then. Here lay hid
the very keynote of that ambitious character: he stooped to nothing less
than greatness for a triumph over his slanderers.

I rose betimes the next morning to find the sun peeping above the
wavy line of the Scottish hills far up the. Solway, and the brigantine
sliding smoothly along in the lee of the Galloway Rhinns. And, though
the month was March, the slopes of Burrow Head were green as the lawn of
Carvel Hall in May, and the slanting rays danced on the ruffed water. By
eight of the clock we had crept into Kirkcudbright Bay and anchored off
St. Mary's Isle, the tide running ebb, and leaving a wide brown belt of
sand behind it.

St. Mary's Isle! As we looked upon it that day, John Paul and I, and
it lay low against the bright water with its bare oaks and chestnuts
against the dark pines, 'twas perhaps as well that the future was sealed
to us.

Captain Paul had conned the brigantine hither with a master's hand; but