gland. The eldest sons get all the pudding, and we have only the dish to
scrape. They talk about making me a barrister. I don't mean to be made a
barrister; I'd as soon be a bumbailiff. No, I'm going to follow you,
cousin, so I sha'n't say good-bye--just _au revoir_.'

And when we drove away from the door, I really could not help admiring the
handsome bold-looking English lad who stood in the porch waving his
handkerchief and shouting,

'_Au revoir--au revoir._'

CHAPTER VI.

THE PROMISED LAND AT LAST.

'There is nothing more annoyin' than a hitch at the hin'eren'. What think
you, young sir?'

'I beg pardon,' I replied, 'but I'm afraid I did not quite understand
you.'

I had been standing all alone watching our preparations for dropping down
stream with the tide. What a wearisome time it had been, too!

The Canton was advertised to sail the day before, but did not. We were
assured, however, she would positively start at midnight, and we had gone
to bed expecting to awake at sea. I had fallen asleep brimful of all kinds
of romantic thoughts. But lo! I had been awakened early on the dark
morning of this almost wintry day with the shouting of men, the rattling
of chains, and puff-puff-puffing of that dreadful donkey-engine.

'Oh yes, we'll be off, sure enough, about eight bells.'

This is what the steward told us after breakfast, but all the forenoon had
slipped away, and here we still were. The few people on shore who had
stayed on, maugre wind and sleet, to see the very, _very_ last of friends
on board, looked very worn and miserable.

But surely we were going at last, for everything was shipped and
everything was comparatively still--far too still, indeed, as it turned
out!

'I said I couldn't stand a hitch at the hin'eren', young sir--any trouble
at the tail o' the chapter.'

I looked up--I _had_ to look up, for the speaker was a head and shoulders
bigger than I--a broad-shouldered, brawny, brown-bearded Scotchman. A
Highlander evidently by his brogue, but one who had travelled south, and
therefore only put a Scotch word in here and there when talking--just, he
told me afterwards, to make better sense of the English language.

'Do I understand you to mean that something has happened to delay the
voyage?'

'I dinna care whether you understand me or not,' he replied, with almost
fierce independence, 'but we're broken down.'

It was only too true, and the news soon went all over the ship--sprea