no other furniture, and, indeed, there was room for no other,
and the room was unadorned except by three or four funeral cards in
dismal black frames, which were hanging at different heights on the wall
opposite the bed. But the square casement window was thrown wide open,
and the pure sea air filled the little room, and the coarse white
coverings of the bed were spotless, and, indeed, the whole place looked
and felt both fresh and clean.

'You'll pardon me, sir,' said Duncan, 'for asking you to look at such a
poor place.'

'But I like it, Duncan,' I answered, 'and I like you, and I like your
wife, and if you will have me as a lodger, I am willing and glad to
stay.'

The terms were soon agreed upon to the satisfaction of both parties, and
then all things being settled, Polly went to put little John to bed
whilst I went with Duncan to see his boat.

It was an old boat, and it had been his father's before him, and it had
weathered many a storm; but it was the dream of Duncan's life to buy a
new one, and he and Polly had nearly saved up money enough for it.

'That's why me and the missus is glad to get a lodger now and again,' he
said; 'it all goes to the boat, every penny of it. We mean to call her
The Little John. He's going in her the very first voyage she takes; he
is indeed, sir, for he'll be her captain one day, please God, little
John will.'

It was a calm, beautiful evening; the sea was like a sheet of glass.
Hardly a ripple was breaking on the shore. The sun was setting behind
the cliff, and the fishing village would soon be in darkness. The
fishermen were leaving their cottages and were making for the shore.
Already some of the boats were launched, and the men were throwing in
their nets and fishing-tackle, and were pulling out to sea. I enjoyed
watching my new friend making his preparations. His three mates brought
out the nets, and he gave his orders with a tone of command. He was the
owner and the captain of the Mary Ann, and the rest were accustomed to
do his bidding.

When all were on board, Duncan himself jumped in and gave the word to
push from shore. He nodded to me and bid me good-night, and when he was
a little way from shore, I saw him stand up in the boat and wave his
oil-skin cap to some one above me on the cliff.

I looked up, and saw Polly standing on the rock overhanging the shore
with little John in his white nightgown in her arms. He was waving his
red cap to his father, and continued