id not know at the time that this was the inspiration of an admiral
and of a genius. The subject waned. And as familiar scenes jogged his
memory, he launched into Scotch and reminiscence. Every barn he knew,
and cairn and croft and steeple recalled stories of his boyhood.

We had long been in sight of Criffel, towering ahead of us, whose summit
had beckoned for cycles to Helvellyn and Saddleback looming up to the
southward, marking the wonderland of the English lakes. And at length,
after some five hours of stiff walking, we saw the brown Nith below us
going down to meet the Solway, and so came to the entrance of Mr. Craik's
place. The old porter recognized Paul by a mere shake of the head and
the words, "Yere back, are ye?" and a lowering of his bushy white
eyebrows. We took a by-way to avoid the manor-house, which stood on the
rising ground twixt us and the mountain, I walking close to John Paul's
shoulder and feeling for him at every step. Presently, at a turn of the
path, we were brought face to face with an elderly gentleman in black,
and John Paul stopped.

"Mr. Craik!" he said, removing his hat.

But the gentleman only whistled to his dogs and went on.

"My God, even he!" exclaimed the captain, bitterly; "even he, who thought
so highly of my father!"

A hundred yards more and we came to the little cottage nigh hid among the
trees. John Paul paused a moment, his hand upon the latch of the gate,
his eyes drinking in the familiar picture. The light of day was dying
behind Criffel, and the tiny panes of the cottage windows pulsed with the
rosy flame on the hearth within, now flaring, and again deepening. He
sighed. He walked with unsteady step to the door and pushed it open.
I followed, scarce knowing what I did, halted at the threshold and drew
back, for I had been upon holy ground.

John Paul was kneeling upon the flags by the ingleside, his face buried
on the open Bible in his mother's lap. Her snowy-white head was bent
upon his, her tears running fast, and her lips moving in silent prayer to
Him who giveth and taketh away. Verily, here in this humble place dwelt
a love that defied the hard usage of a hard world!

After a space he came to the door and called, and took me by the hand,
and I went in with him. Though his eyes were wet, he bore himself like a
cavalier.

"Mother, this is Mr. Richard Carvell heir to Carvel Hall in Maryland,--a
young gentleman whom I have had the honour to rescue from a slaver."