his knees Jack's eyes were open.

"I've been sort of praying for you, Jack. I feel relieved. Seems to me
the Great Commander is going to throw you a rope and pull you through
the surf."

Jack's lips were moving as if in feeble reply. But his mind was
wandering.

"The blue flower, Gerty--cull that. Oh, not the other! How dark it is!
Gerty, I cannot find you. Dark, dark, dark!"

And poor Jack relapsed once more into insensibility.

[Illustration: "_I've been sort of praying for you, Jack._"
Page 43.]

CHAPTER V.

"NOW THIS GOOD BLADE SHALL BE MY BRIDE."

"The bosom in anguish will often be wrung
That trusts to the words of a fair lady's tongue;
But true are the tones of my own gallant steel--
They never betray, and they never conceal.
I'll trust thee, my loved sword, wherever we be,
For the clang of my sabre is music to me."
QUARTER-MASTER ANDERSON.

It was not until Sir Digby Auld had quite gone that Gerty came to her
senses, and realized the position she had placed herself in. The comical
side of the situation struck her at the same time, and for a few moments
right merrily did she join the laugh with her old friend, Mr. Richards.
But she grew suddenly serious next minute.

"What have I done?" she cried; "and how _can_ I tell father?"

"You droll, provoking little puss!" said Richards. "Come and sit on my
knee here, as you always have done since you were a weary wee
hop-of-my-thumb."

"And will you tell me a story?" Gerty was smiling once more. "Then it
will just seem like old, old times, you know."

"Yes, of course. Once upon a time, then--oh, ever so long ago, because
no such things as I am going to tell you about could happen in our
day--once upon a time there lived, in a lonely house by the side of a
deep, dark forest, a lonely man, to whom the fairies had once given a
magic feather, plucked from the wing of a fairy goose; and whenever he
touched paper with this quill, lo, the paper was turned into gold! So he
amassed great wealth; but no one loved him when he went abroad, because,
though he had gold, he had no titles and he was sharp of speech. Only he
had one beautiful daughter, more fair than a houri of paradise; and she
loved her father very much--more even than she loved the roses in June,
or the wild birds that sang in the forest, or the stars that shone so
brightly on still, clear nights in winter.

"And this d