through the hissing surf. "Did you ever hear Lady
Lucy's Lament?" And he struck a few chords with his fingers as he
sang:--

"'I care not for your trellised vine,
I love the dark woods on the shore,
Nor all the towers along the Rhine
Are dear to me as old Glencore.

The ragged cliff, Ben Creggan high,
Re-echoing the Atlantic roar,
Are mingling with the seagull's cry
My welcome back to old Glencore.'

And then there's a chorus."

"That's a signal to us to make haste," said the Corporal, pointing to a
bright flame which suddenly shot up on the shore of the lough. "Put out
an oar to leeward there, and keep her up to the wind."

And Billy, perceiving his minstrelsy unattended to, consoled himself by
humming over, for his own amusement, the remainder of his ballad.

The wind freshened as the night grew darker, and heavy seas repeatedly
broke on the bow, and swept over the boat in sprayey showers.

"It's that confounded song of yours has got the wind up," said Craggs,
angrily; "stand by the sheet, and stop your croning!"

"That's an _error vulgaris_, attributing to music marine disasters,"
said Billy, calmly; "it arose out of a mistake about one Orpheus."

"Slack off there!" cried Craggs, as a squall struck the boat, and laid
her almost over.

Billy, however, had obeyed the mandate promptly, and she soon righted,
and held on her course.

"I wish they'd show the light again on shore," muttered the Corporal;
"the night is black as pitch."

"Keep the top of the mountain a little to windward, and you 're all
right," said Billy. "I know the lough well; I used to come here all
hours, day and night, once, spearing salmon."

"And smuggling, too!" added Craggs.

"Yes, sir; brandy, and tay, and pigtail, for Mister Sheares, in
Oughterard."

"What became of him?" asked Craggs.

"He made a fortune and died, and his son married a lady!"

"Here comes another; throw her head up in the wind," cried Craggs.

This time the order came too late; for the squall struck her with the
suddenness of a shot, and she canted over till her keel lay out of
water, and, when she righted, it was with the white surf boiling over
her.

"She's a good boat, then, to stand that," said Billy, as he struck a
light for his pipe, with all the coolness of one perfectly at his ease;
and Craggs, from that very moment, conceived a favorable opinion of the
little hunchback.

"Now we're in th