role, lad?"

"Yes, parole," said Sydney.

"Ah, well, you are a gent, and I can trust you," said Barney. "Now
then," he added, as he stirred up his son with the toe of his natty
evening shoe; "get up."

"No, no, no," whined Pan.

"If you don't get up I'll kick you over the palings. Get up, you ugly
young lubber, or I'll--"

"Oh!" Pan winced, and rose to his knees, eagerly scanning his father's
hands in the gloom to see if the rope's-end was visible.

"And, look here, Barney," said Sydney, quietly, "you are not to hit
Pan."

"Not what, my lad?"

"You are not to rope's-end him."

"Who says so?"

"I do."

"Oh, you do, do you? Well, look here, my lad, he's hurt my feelings so
that I'm going to lock myself up with him in his bedroom, and then I'm
going to skin him."

"Oh, oh!" cried Pan.

"You are not going to touch him, but to bring him before my father."

"'Fore the skipper?" said Barney, in a puzzled voice. "Well, yes, my
lad, he's in full command. There is something in that."

"But you shouted, and said some one was coming. Who is it?"

"Oh, that was only a manoofer, Master Syd, just to scare you into
s'rending."

"Then there is no one coming?"

"It's par--role, mind."

"Yes, parole, of course."

"And you won't try to cut and run again?"

"No--no!" cried Sydney, impatiently.

"No one. Now then you, Pan, my man, hyste yerself on them two legs o'
yourn. On'y you wait till I'm a-handlin' that there bit o' rope."

"You touch him if you dare!" cried Sydney. "My father will punish him."

"Oh, Master Syd!" cried Pan.

"Hold your row, will you, you lubber," growled Barney, seizing his son
by the collar, setting him on his legs, and giving him a good shake at
the same time.

Pan uttered a low moan, and shuffling his feet along the gravel, allowed
himself to be led towards the gate.

Sydney shivered as he felt that he was approaching sentence.

"Is my father in the dining-room?"

"Yes, Master Sydney.--Here you, lift up them pretty hoofs o' yours, will
yer!"

"Is my uncle with him?"

"Yes, Master Syd."

"Have they been trying to find us?"

"No, Master Syd. The skipper said as if you was such a young cur as to
go and disgrace yourself like that 'ere by running away and desarting
the King's colours, he wouldn't stir a step arter yer."

"Oh!" groaned Sydney to himself. Then in a whisper, "What did my uncle
say?"

"Said Amen to it, and that he'd been fool enough to give you t