sweet name, and in the magical radiance
over land and sea had that momentary vision of a beloved face which the
second-sight of Memory sometimes grants to a pure, unselfish love. Then
with a joyful song nestling in his heart, he went rapidly forward. And
the night was as the day, for the moon was full and the rosy spears of
the Aurora were charging the zenith from every point of the horizon.

Very early he came to a little town. It was asleep and there was no
sound of life in it; but a large yacht was lying at the silent pier with
steam visible, and he went directly to her. During the full tide she had
drifted a few feet from land, but he took the open space like a longer
step, walked straight to the wheel, and softly whistled.

Then the Captain came quickly up the companion-way, and there was light
and liking on his face, as he said,

"Welcome, sir! I was expecting thee."

"To be sure. I sent you word I should be here before sunrising. Are you
ready to sail?"

"Quite ready, sir."

"Then cast off at once," and immediately there was movement all through
the boat--the sound of setting sail, the lifting of the anchor, the rush
of steam, and the hoarse melancholy voices of the sailors. Then the man
laid his hand on the wheel, and with wind and tide in her favor, the
yacht was soon racing down the great North Sea.

"It is Yoden's time at the wheel, sir," said the Captain. "If so be he
is wanted."

"He is not wanted yet. I am going to take her as far as the Hoy--if it
suits you, Captain."

"Take your will, sir. I am always well suited with it."

Now John Hatton was a cotton-spinner, but he knew the ways of a boat,
and the winds and tides that would serve her, and the road southward she
must take; and at his will she went, as if she was a solan flying for
the rocks. When they first started, the sea-birds were dozing on their
perches, waiting for the dawn, and their unwonted silence lent a
stronger sense of loneliness to the gray, misty waters. But as they
approached the pillars of Hoy, the wind rose and the waves swelled
refulgent in the crimsoning east.

Then the man at the wheel was seen in all his great beauty--a man of
lofty stature perfectly formed and full of power and grace in every
movement. His head had an antique massiveness and was crowned with
bright brown hair thrown backward. His forehead was wide and
contemplative, his eyes large and gray and thickly fringed, lustrous but
_not_ piercing. His loving