a thought seemed to strike him. He turned hastily round,
and Ruby was surprised to see that his eyes were suffused with tears,
and that his features worked with the convulsive twitching of one who
struggles powerfully to restrain his feelings.

"Ruby Brand," said he, in a deep husky voice, which trembled at first,
but became strong as he went on; "Ruby Brand, I deserve nae good at your
hands, yet I'll ask a favour o' ye. Ye've seen the wife and the bairn,
the wee ane wi' the fair curly pow. Ye ken the auld hoose. It'll be
mony a lang day afore I see them again, if iver I come back ava.
There's naebody left to care for them. They'll be starvin' soon, lad.
Wull ye--wull ye look-doon?"

Poor Davy Spink stopped here, and covered his face with his big sunburnt
hands.

A sudden gush of sympathy filled Ruby's heart. He started forward, and
drawing from his pocket the letter with which he was charged, thrust it
into Spink's hand, and said hurriedly--

"Don't fail to deliver it the first thing you do on landing. And
hark'ee, Spink, go to Mrs Brand's cottage, and tell them there _why_ I
went away. Be sure you see them _all_, and explain _why it was_. Tell
Minnie Gray that I will be _certain_ to return, if God spares me."

Without waiting for a reply he sprang into the gig, and gave the other
boat a shove, that sent it several yards off.

"Give way, lads," cried the officer, who was delighted at this
unexpected change in affairs, though he had only heard enough of the
conversation to confuse him as to the cause of it.

"Stop! stop!" shouted Spink, tossing up his arms.

"I'd rather not," returned the officer.

Davy seized the oars, and, turning his boat in the direction of the gig,
endeavoured to overtake it. As well might the turkey-buzzard attempt to
catch the swallow. He was left far behind, and when last seen faintly
through the fog, he was standing up in the stern of the boat wringing
his hands.

Ruby had seated himself in the bow of the gig, with his face turned
steadily towards the sea, so that no one could see it. This position he
maintained in silence until the boat ranged up to what appeared like the
side of a great mountain, looming through the mist.

Then he turned round, and, whatever might have been the struggle within
his breast, all traces of it had left his countenance, which presented
its wonted appearance of good-humoured frankness.

We need scarcely say that the mountain turned out to b