rned the scrutiny
unabashed.

"Ye be from up-along?" she queried. "Ye be a friend o' Flora's?"

"Yes," replied Darling. "I have heard that she is in this harbor--and
that no word of her being here, or even of her being alive, has been
sent out. Her friends believe her to be dead. And I heard that the man
you call skipper is--is keeping her against her will. Of course, against
her will! I have come to take her away--back to the world in which she
belongs."

"Be ye alone, sir?" asked Pat Kavanagh, combing his beard with his long,
lean fingers.

Darling frowned. "That's as may be," he said. "Alone or not, I'm no such
fool as to tell it until I know how I stand with you; but I am armed,
you may be sure!"

"Lad," said Pat, "I sees as how ye bes young, an' a sailor--aye, an'
bewitched, too. Sure, I was a sailor meself, in the old days. I likes
the cut o' yer fore-sils, lad, an' the lines o' yer hull, so I tells ye,
man to man like, watch out for the skipper. Aye, armed or empty-handed,
alone or wid a crew at yer back, watch out for Black Dennis Nolan. He
bes a grand lad in his own way, an' ginerous an' fair wid his
friends--but Saint Peter help the man who hauls acrost his bows! If
ye've come to Chance Along to take the girl away wid ye, then get hold
o' her quick an' clear out wid her quick."

"I'll take ye to her, sir," said Mary, eagerly. "Come, sir! Come along
wid ye. She bes at the skipper's own house."

"At his own house? So I heard," said Darling, thickly.

"Aye," said Pat, "an' safe as if she was in church, wid Mother Nolan to
mind her. Sure, an' Denny Nolan bain't such a pirate as ye t'inks, sir.
Lie an' curse an' fight an' wrack he will, like the divil himself; but
he bes a decent man wid the helpless, accordin' to his lights, for all
that. Aye, cap'n, till she bes Denny Nolan's wife she kin be any man's
wife--if he bes smart enough to get her out o' Chance Along."

"Come along wid me, sir!" urged Mary, pulling at Darling's sleeve. "He
bes out o' the harbor now, wid all the crew. Now bes yer chance, sir!"

She had thrown a shawl over her head and shoulders while her father was
talking; and now she opened the door and led the sailor into the choking
fog outside.

"Give me yer hand, sir, an' mind yer feet," she whispered. And then, as
she pressed quickly forward, leading Darling by the hand, "It must be
the saints themselves sent ye an' the fog to Chance Along together,
sir--ye an' the fog an' the wrack