se fine boats can live in
almost any sea. But the rain will make it very uncomfortable for you and
the child."

"The discomfort will only last a few minutes, Mrs. Lyndsay," said old
Kitson. "Those chaps will put you on board before you can say Jack
Robinson."

"It is better to bear a ducking than lose our passage in the
_Chieftain_," said Flora. "There cannot be much to apprehend from the
violence of the storm, or twelve men would never risk their lives for
the value of forty shillings. Our trunks are all in the boat-house, our
servants discharged, and our friends gone; we have no longer a home, and
I am impatient to commence our voyage."

"You are right, Flora. Dress yourself and the child, and I will engage
the boat immediately." And away bounded Lyndsay to make their final
arrangements, and see the luggage safely stowed away in the pilot-boat.

Captain Kitson seated himself at the table, and began discussing a
beefsteak with all the earnestness of a hungry man. From time to time,
as his appetite began to slacken, he addressed a word of comfort or
encouragement to Mrs. Lyndsay, who was busy wrapping up the baby for her
perilous voyage.

"That's right, my dear. Take care of the young one; 'tis the most
troublesome piece of lumber you have with you. A child and a cat are
two things which never ought to come on board a ship. But take courage,
my dear. Be like our brave Nelson; never look behind you after entering
upon difficulties; it only makes bad worse, and does no manner of good.
You will encounter rougher gales than this before you have crossed the
Atlantic."

"I hope that we shall not have to wait long for the steamer," said
Flora. "I dread this drenching rain for the poor babe, far more than the
stormy sea."

"Wait," responded the old man, "the steamer will be rattling down in no
time; it is within an hour of her usual time. But Mrs. Lyndsay, my
dear,"--hastily pushing from him his empty plate, and speaking with his
mouth full--"I have one word to say to you in private, before you go."

Flora followed the gallant captain into the kitchen, marvelling in her
own mind what this private communication could be. The old man shut the
door carefully behind him; then said, in a mysterious whisper--"The old
clothes; do you remember what I said to you last night?"

Taken by surprise, Flora looked down, coloured, and hesitated; she was
afraid of wounding his feelings. Simple woman! the man was without
delicacy, an