!
But as he is here, I must make the best of a bad bargain. You will not
peach, so I'll just give you a bit of his history, and explain the
necessity of his keeping close until we are out of the sight of land.
Hang him! his ugly phiz is enough to sink the ship. Had I seen him
before he came on board, he might have rotted in gaol before I took
charge of his carcase. And then, 'tis such a conceited ass, he will take
no advice, and cares as little for his own safety as he does for mine."

"Is he a runaway felon?" asked Flora.

"You have not made a bad guess, Mistress Lyndsay. He was a distiller,
who carried on a good business in Edinburgh. He cheated the Government,
and was cashiered for a large sum, more than he could pay by a long
chalk. His friends contrived his escape, and smuggled him on board last
night, just as the anchor was being weighed. They offered me a handsome
sum to carry him to Quebec. Should he be discovered by any of the
passengers before we lose sight of the British coast, he would be seized
when the ship puts into Kirkwall, and that would be a bad job for us
both. The transaction is entirely between his friends and me; Mr. Gregg
knows nothing about it."

"And are we to have the pleasure of his company in the cabin during the
voyage?"

"That would be bad indeed. No, he has a berth provided for him in the
store-room, and has the privilege of having his grub sent to him from
the cabin-table, and the use of the tea and coffeepot after we have done
with it. This is quite good enough for a rogue like him. But I hear Sam
Frazer hallooing for breakfast. Come down to the cabin, Mrs. Lyndsay,
the sea air must have made you hungry."

The little cabin was in apple-pie order. A clean diaper cloth covered
the table, on which the common crockery, cups and saucers were arranged
with mathematical precision, while the savoury smell of fried fish and
hot coffee, promised the hungry emigrants a substantial breakfast.

On inquiring for Hannah and James Hawke, Flora found that both were
confined to their berths with sea-sickness. Old Boreas complimented her
not a little on her being able to appear at the breakfast-table. The
fish proved excellent; the coffee, a black, bitter compound, which Flora
drank with a very ill grace. The captain, with an air of exultation,
produced from his own private cupboard, which formed the back panelling
of his berth, a great stone jar of milk, which his wife had prepared
with sugar to l