se of weariness rapidly passed off, as the oars
splashed, and the boat glided softly out of the waters of the cove,
between the two huge corners of rock which guarded the entrance, and
then began to dance up and down as she reached out into the tideway.
After the darkness of the old quarry, with its faint odour of spirits,
the night seemed comparatively like noonday, and the pure, brisk air
that fanned his cheek delicious. He seemed to drink it in, drawing down
great draughts which made his bosom swell, his heart beat, and there
were moments when, like a schoolboy upon whom has suddenly come the joys
of an unexpected half-holiday, he felt ready to jump up, toss his cap in
the air, and shout for joy.

"But it would be undignified in an officer," he felt; and he sat still,
feeling the boat live almost in the water as she throbbed from end to
end with the powerful strokes, and glide up the waves, hang for a
moment, and slide down.

"Tidy swell on, Mr Raystoke," said Gurr.

"Oh, it's glorious!" replied the lad in a low voice.

"Glorious?"

"Yes. You don't know what it means to have been shut up in a place like
a cellar, always black, and longing to see the blue sky and sunshine."

"Well, there aren't none now, my lad."

"No, Gurr, there is no blue sky and sunshine, but--but--this is
delightful;" and he said to himself, with his breast swelling, "I feel
stupid, and as if I could cry like a child."

They were nearing the cutter fast, her lights growing plainer, and the
lad leaned forward with feelings that were almost ecstatic as he tried
to scan her lines, and thought of leaping on her deck, and feeling the
easy, yielding motion as she rose and fell to her cable where she lay at
anchor. He even thought of how glorious it would be for there to come a
storm, with the spray beating on his cheeks and then, as he
involuntarily raised his hand to his face, a thought occurred to him
which made him start.

"Oh!" he mentally ejaculated, as he thought of his long sojourn in the
cave, and a feeling of satisfaction came over him that it was dark;
"what a horribly dirty wretch I must look!"

A hail came from the cutter at last, and was answered from the boat,
Archy's heart beating fast as he dimly saw the figures on board, and
thought of the joy of being once more in his own cabin.

"Gurr," he whispered, "don't say a word to Mr Brough; let me tell him I
have come on board."

"Right, my lad; but you'll say we found you,