the great
truths of human experience! "There is many a slip 'twixt the cup and
the lip" is one of them. Undoubtedly there is. So is there "many a
miss of a sweet little kiss." "The course of true love," also, "never
did run smooth." Certainly not. Why should it? If it did we should
doubt whether the love were true. Our own private belief is that the
course of true love is always uncommonly rough, but collective human
wisdom has seen fit to put the idea in the negative form. So let it
stand.

Ruby had occasion to reflect on these things that day, but the
reflection afforded him no comfort whatever.

The cause of his inconsolable state of mind is easily explained.

The boat had proceeded about halfway to Arbroath when they heard the
sound of oars, and in a few seconds a ship's gig rowed out of the fog
towards them. Instead of passing them the gig was steered straight for
the boat, and Ruby saw that it was full of men-of-war's men.

He sprang up at once and seized an oar.

"Out oars!" he cried. "Boys, if ever you pulled hard in your lives, do
so now. It's the press-gang!"

Before those few words were uttered the two men had seized the oars, for
they knew well what the press-gang meant, and all three pulled with such
vigour that the boat shot over the smooth sea with double speed. But
they had no chance in a heavy fishing boat against the picked crew of
the light gig. If the wind had been a little stronger they might have
escaped, but the wind had decreased, and the small boat overhauled them
yard by yard.

Seeing that they had no chance, Ruby said, between his set teeth:

"Will ye fight, boys?"

"_I_ will," cried Davy Spink sternly, for Davy had a wife and little
daughter on shore, who depended entirely on his exertions for their
livelihood, so he had a strong objection to go and fight in the wars of
his country.

"What's the use?" muttered Big Swankie, with a savage scowl. He, too,
had a strong disinclination to serve in the Royal Navy, being a lazy
man, and not overburdened with courage. "They've got eight men of a
crew, wi' pistols an' cutlashes."

"Well, it's all up with us," cried Ruby, in a tone of sulky anger, as he
tossed his oar overboard, and, folding his arms on his breast, sat
sternly eyeing the gig as it approached.

Suddenly a beam of hope shot into his heart. A few words will explain
the cause thereof.

About the time the works at the Bell Rock were in progress, the war wit