keep my eyes open this afternoon," he said
reassuringly. "And if I get a chance of putting in a word it'll be put
in. Twenty-nine years I sailed with the cap'n, and if there's anybody
knows his weak spots it's me."

He stopped as they reached the town and said "good-bye." He pressed the
young man's hand sympathetically, and a wink of intense artfulness gave
point to his last remark.

"There's always Sam Wilks's cottage," he said, in a husky whisper; "and
if two of 'is friends _should_ 'appen to meet there, who'd be the wiser?"

He gazed benevolently after the young man's retreating figure and
continued his stroll, his own troubles partly forgotten in the desire to
assist his friends. It would be a notable feat for the humble steward to
be the means of bringing the young people together and thereby bringing
to an end the feud of a dozen years. He pictured himself eventually as
the trusted friend and adviser of both families, and in one daring flight
of fancy saw himself hobnobbing with the two captains over pipes and
whisky.

Neatly dressed and carrying a small offering of wallflowers, he set out
that afternoon to call on his old master, giving, as he walked, the last
touches to a little speech of welcome which he had prepared during
dinner. It was a happy effort, albeit a trifle laboured, but Captain
Nugent's speech, the inspiration of the moment, gave it no chance.

He started the moment the bowing Mr. Wilks entered the room, his voice
rising gradually from low, bitter tones to a hurricane note which Bella.
could hear in the kitchen without even leaving her chair. Mr. Wilks
stood dazed and speechless before him, holding the wallflowers in one
hand and his cap in the other. In this attitude he listened to a
description of his character drawn with the loving skill of an artist
whose whole heart was in his work, and who seemed never tired of filling
in details.

"If you ever have the hardihood to come to my house again," he concluded,
"I'll break every bone in your misshapen body. Get!"

Mr. Wilks turned and groped his way to the door. Then he went a little
way back with some idea of defending himself, but the door of the room
was slammed in his face. He walked slowly down the path to the road and
stood there for some time in helpless bewilderment. In all his sixty
years of life his feelings had never been so outraged. His cap was still
in his hand, and, with a helpless gesture, he put it on and scatt