"

The dread of going in the _Flora_ took a hold of the mind of her
namesake; and she begged Jim to be on the constant look-out for another
vessel.

During their stay at Leith, Lyndsay was busily employed in writing a
concluding chapter to his work on the Cape; and Flora amused herself by
taking long walks, accompanied by James, the maid, and the baby, in
order to explore all the beauties of Edinburgh. The lad, who was very
clever, and possessed a wonderful faculty of remembering places and of
finding his way among difficulties, always acted as guide on these
occasions. Before he had been a week at Leith, he knew every street in
Edinburgh; had twice or thrice climbed the heights of Arthur's Seat, and
visited every nook in the old castle. There was not a ship in the
harbour of Leith, but he not only knew her name and the name of her
captain, but he had made himself acquainted with some of her crew, and
could tell her freight and tonnage, her age and capabilities, the port
from which she last sailed and the port to which she was then bound, as
well as any sailor on the wharf. It was really extraordinary to listen
of an evening to the lad's adventures, and all the mass of information
he had acquired during his long rambles through the day.

Flora was always in an agony lest James should be lost, or meet with
some mishap during his exploring expeditions; but Mistress Waddel
comforted her with the assurance, "That a cat, throw her which way you
wu'd, lighted a' upon her feet. That nought was never tent--an' they
that war' born to be hanget wu'd never be drowned."

So, one fine afternoon in June, Flora took it into her head, that she
would climb to the top of the mountain, the sight of which from her
chamber window she was never tired of contemplating. She asked her
husband to go with her. She begged, she entreated, she coaxed; but he
was just writing the last pages of his long task, and he told her, that
if she would only wait until the next day, he would go with pleasure.

But with Flora, it was this day or none. She had set her whole heart and
soul upon going up to the top of the mountain, and to the top of the
mountain she determined to go. This resolution was formed, in direct
opposition to her husband's wishes; and with a perfect knowledge of the
tale of the dog Ball, which had been one of her father's stock stories,
the catastrophe of which she had known from a child. Lyndsay did not
tell her positively she should