od to hear her plucky talk, there at the
dinner-table, when she chattered away like some sweet-singing bird, and
Dolly couldn't turn away his eyes, and the yellow boy stood, sour and
savage, behind her chair, and threw out hints for me to sheer off which
might have moved the Bass Rock. Not that he need have troubled himself,
for I had made up my mind already what to do; and no sooner was the
food stowed away than I up and spoke about the need of getting on
again, and such like. And with that I said "Good-bye" to Mistress Ruth
and "Good-bye" to the old woman, and had a shot left in my locker for
the yellow boy, which I don't doubt pleased him mightily.

"Good luck to you," says I; "if you'd a wisp of your hair, I'd put it
in my locket and think of you sometimes. When you want anything from
London you just shout across the sea and we'll be hearing you.
Deadman's Horn is nothing to you," said I; "you'd scare a ship out of
the sea, if you wasn't gentle to her."

Mind you, I said all this as much to put him off as anything else, for
I'd been careful enough to blab no word about the Southern Cross being
Miss Ruth's very own ship, nor about her orders that we should call at
Ken's Island; and I knew that when a man's angry at what you say to him
he doesn't think much of two and two making four, but as often as not
makes them eight or ten. May-be, said I, he'll make it out that I'm on
a tramp bound for 'Frisco and have touched here on the way--and
certainly he won't look for my coming back again once he sees our smoke
on the sky-line. Nor was I wrong. My mistress was to tell me that much
before twelve hours had passed.

And so it was that I said "Good-bye" to her, she standing at the
garden-gate with a brave smile upon her pretty face, and the yellow man
behind her like a savage dog that is afraid to bite, but has all the
mind to. At the valley's head I turned about, and she was still there,
looking up wistfully to the hills we trod. Thrice I waved my hand to
her, and thrice she answered, and then together, the lad and I, we
entered the dark wood and saw her no more.

"Your best leg forward, lad," said I to him, "and mum's the word.
There's work to do on the ship, and work ashore for a woman's sake. Are
you game for that, Dolly--are you game, my boy?"

Well, he didn't answer me. Some one up in the black gorge above fired a
rifle just as I spoke; and the bullet came singing down like a bird on
the wing. Not a soul could I se