s here."

"No, Solly, neither can I," said Nic gloomily.

"It's his old hurts does it, sir. It aren't nat'ral. Here he is laid
up, as you may say, in clover, in as nice a place as an old sailor could
end his days in."

"Yes, Solly," said Nic sadly; "it is a beautiful old place."

"Ay, it is, sir; and when I cons it over I feel it. Why, Master Nic,
when I think of all the real trouble as there is in life, and what some
folks has to go through, I asks myself what I've ever done to have such
good luck as to be safely moored here in such a harbour. It's a lovely
home, and the troubles is nothing--on'y a bit of a gale blowed by the
skipper now and then along of the wrong boots as hurts his corns, or him
being a-carrying on too much sail, and bustin' off a button in a hurry.
And who minds that?"

"Ah! who minds a trifle like that, Solly?" sighed Nic. "Well, sir, you
see he does. Wind gets up directly, and he talks to me as if I'd
mutinied. But I don't mind. I know all the time that he's the best and
bravest skipper as ever lived, and I'd do anything for him to save him
from trouble."

"I know you would, Solly," said Nic, laying a hand upon the rugged old
sailor's shoulder.

"Thank ye, Master Nic; that does a man good. But look here, sir; I
can't help saying it. The fact is, after his rough, stormy life,
everything here's made too easy for the skipper. He's a bit worried by
his old wounds, and that's all; and consekens is 'cause he aren't got no
real troubles he wherrits himself and makes quakers."

"Makes quakers?" said Nic wonderingly.

"Sham troubles, Master Nic--wooden guns, as we call quakers out at sea
or in a fort. Strikes me, sir, as a real, downright, good, gen-u-wine
trouble, such as losing all his money, would be the making of the
Captain; and after that he'd be ready to laugh at losing a few salmon as
he don't want. I say, Master Nic, you aren't offended at me for making
so bold?"

"No, Solly, no," said the young man sadly. "You mean well, I know.
There, say no more about it. I hope all this will settle itself, as so
many troubles do."

Nic strolled out into the grounds and unconsciously followed his father,
who had gone to the edge of the combe; but he had not walked far before
a cheery hail saluted his ears, and, to his great delight, he found the
Captain looking radiant.

"Nic, my boy, it's all right," he cried; "my left arm aches terribly and
my corns are shooting like mad. Well,