ardy, fearless boy, better acquainted with every boat on the station
than with his single questions, and far fonder of little Sarah's company
than of the schoolmaster's. Sarah was likewise a healthy, stirring
child, extremely sensitive and easily offended, but capable, at the same
time, of the deepest feelings of gratitude and attachment. Thomas Laing
was, in fact, her champion, her Don Quixote, from the time when he could
square his arms and manage his fists; and much mischief and obloquy did
he suffer among his companions on account of his chivalrous defence of
little Sally. One day whilst the fisher boys and girls were playing on
the pier, whilst the tide was at the full, a mischievous boy, wishing to
annoy Thomas, pushed little Sall into the harbour, where, but for
Thomas's timely and skilful aid (for he was an excellent swimmer,) she
would probably have been drowned. Having placed his favourite in a
condition and place of safety, Tom felled the offender, with a terrible
fister, to the earth. The blow had taken place on the pit of the
stomach, and was mortal. Tom was taken up, imprisoned, and tried for
manslaughter; but, on account of his youth--being then only thirteen--he
was merely imprisoned for a certain number of months. Poor Sally, on
whose account Tom had incurred the punishment of the law, visited him,
as did many good-natured fishermen, whilst in prison, where he always
expressed extreme contrition for his rashness. After the expiry of his
imprisonment, Tom returned to Cellardykes, only to take farewell of his
parents, and his now more than ever dear Sally. He could not bear, he
said, to face the parents of the boy whose death he had occasioned. The
parting was momentary. He promised to spend one night at home; but he
had no such intention--and, for several years, nobody knew what had
become of Thomas Laing. The subject was at first a speculation, then a
wonder, next an occasional recollection; and, in a few months, the place
which once knew bold Tom Laing, knew him no more. Even his parents,
engaged as they were in the active pursuits of fishing, and surrounded
as they were by a large and dependent family, soon learned to forget
him. One bosom alone retained the image of Tom, more faithfully and
indelibly than ever did coin the impression of royalty. Meanwhile, Sarah
grew--for she was a year older than Tom--into womanhood, and fairly took
her share in all the more laborious parts of a fisher's life. She coul