ely, sterile grandeur
which marks the dashing of the ocean waves into that Highland loch.

The long, bright summer day wore to its close, and before the moon
looked down upon the heath-clad hills, the lighthouse on Cape Wrath had
diminished to a star amid the waves, and the coast of Scotland looked
like a dim wreath of blue smoke upon the verge of the horizon.

The little islands of Barra and Rona dimly distinguished above the
waves, were the last of the British Isles which met Flora's anxious
glance; and when they faded into the immensity of ocean, and were lost
to sight, and the vessel fairly stood to sea, a sense of loneliness, of
perpetual exile, pressed so heavily upon her heart, that she left the
deck, and sought her bed, that she might bewail in solitude her last
passionate adieu to her native land.

CHAPTER IV.

STEPHEN CORRIE.

Now that the fear of detection was over, the little brown man fearlessly
emerged from his hiding-place in the boat, and promenaded the deck from
morning till night, sneering at the steerage-passengers, and abusing the
sailors in the most arrogant and assured manner.

He was the most contrary, malicious, waspish elf that could well be
imagined. If he could not find an opportunity for stinging and teasing
with his ill-natured sarcasms and remarks, he buzzed around his victims
like an irritated musquito, whose shrill notes of defiance and
antagonism are as bad as its bite. The more Flora saw of Mr. Lootie the
less she wished to see of him; but she could not come upon the deck
without his pestering her with his company, and annoying her with
observations on his fellow-passengers, which were as unjust as they were
cruel.

It was in vain that she turned her back upon him, and gave him curt
ungracious answers, often affecting not to hear him at all. The little
snuff-coloured man was too much at heart a sneak, with all his
impudence, to be readily shook off.

It was only when Oscar, who had attached himself to Mrs. Lyndsay and her
child, accompanied her to the deck, that Mr. Lootie kept his distance.
The fierce terrier had only to draw up his lip and show his ivories,
hissing through them a short ominous snarl, and the brown dwarf
retreated with a growl and a curse into his boat.

I am sorry to say that Flora actually fostered the deadly enmity which
existed between Oscar and the recreant distiller, which seemed the more
unjustifiable, as there was a positive personal likeness