e."

Picking up the frail figure of the old man, the captain, followed by
Macpherson and the supercargo, soon gained the boat through a shower
of stones and other missiles. Ten minutes later they were on board the
Palestine.

*****

"What a devil of a row!" said Packenham, as he clinked his glass against
that of Macpherson, who, after the exciting events of the past hour,
had been induced to take a nip to steady his nerves; "you ought to be
d------d well ashamed of yourself, Mac, to be mixed up in a fight over a
Papist. What would Mr. MacBain say, eh?"

"It's a verra bad business for me," said Macpherson ruefully. "Ye'll
have to come back for me next month and tak' me awa' from Maduro. I'll
do no more business here, I can see."

"Right you are, Mac," and Packenham grasped his hand. "I _will_ come
back for you, if it takes me a month of Sundays to beat against the
trades. And you're a white man, Mac; and I'll never laugh at MacBain nor
Aberdeen theology any more."

That night, as the captain of the _Palestine_ slept upon the skylight,
old Rime, who, with the child, lay upon the deck just beneath Packenham,
rose softly to his knees and peered into the white man's face. He was
sleeping soundly. Rime touched his grandchild with his foot. She awoke,
and together they pressed their lips to the skipper's hand. Then,
without a sound, they stole along the deck, clambered over the brig's
low side, dropped into the water and swam ashore.

When daylight came the _Palestine_ was rolling heavily to a sweeping
westerly swell, with the wind piping hard through her cordage as she
strained at her cable. The absence of old Rime and the child was not
discovered till coffee time; the mate thought they had gone to sleep in
the hold.

"They've swum ashore in the night, Pack," said the supercargo to
Packenham. "I believe the old fellow will be content to die of
starvation--hallo, here's Mac coming off in his boat!"

In less than ten minutes the trader's boat was close to the ship, and
Macpherson, bringing her up to the wind close under the brig's stern,
hailed Packenham.

"Hae ye seen anything of the old man Rime?"

"No," answered the captain; "the old fool cleared out last night. Isn't
he on shore?"

"No. And there's a canoe missing from the beach, and I believe the auld
Papist fule has taken the wee bit lassie wi' him, and thinks he can
get to Ponape, whaur there's 'Katolikos' in plenty. And Ponape is sax
hundred miles awa'.