ere about eight, when you will serve out the arms."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"The good stout oak cudgels I had cut; and if we're lucky, my lad, we
shall have as nice and pleasant a fight as ever we two had in our
lives."

"Quite a treat, sir," said the old sailor; "and I hope we shall be able
to pay our debts."

The Captain was in the highest of glee all the evening, and he shook his
son's hand very warmly when they parted for bed.

About one o'clock Nic was aroused from a deep sleep by a sharp knocking
at his door.

"Awake, Nic?" came in the familiar accents.

"No, father. Yes, father. Is anything wrong?"

"Wrong? No, my boy; right! Hear the fall?"

"No, father; I was sound asleep."

"Open your window and put out your head, boy. The water's coming down
and roaring like thunder. Good-night."

Nic slipped out of bed, did as he was told, and, as he listened, there
was the deep, musical, booming sound of the fall seeming to fill the
air, while from one part of the ravine a low, rushing noise told that
the river must be pretty full.

Nic stood listening for some time before closing his window and
returning to bed, to lie wakeful and depressed, feeling a strange kind
of foreboding, as if some serious trouble was at hand. It was not that
he was afraid or shrank from the contest which might in all probability
take place the next night, though he knew that it would be desperate--
for, on the contrary, he felt excited and quite ready to join in the
fray; but he was worried about his father, and the difficulty he knew he
would have in keeping him out of danger. He was in this awkward
position, too: what he would like to do would be to get Solly and a
couple of their stoutest men to act as bodyguard to protect his father;
but, if he attempted such a thing, the chances were that the Captain
would look upon it as cowardice, and order them off to the thick of the
cudgel-play.

Just as he reached this point he fell asleep.

Nic found the Captain down first next morning, looking as pleased as a
boy about to start for his holidays.

"You're a pretty fellow," he cried. "Why, I've been up hours, and went
right to the falls. Pool's full, Nic, my boy, the salmon are up, and
it's splendid, lad."

"What is, father?"

"Something else is coming up."

"What?"

"Those scoundrels are on the _qui vive_. I was resting on one of the
rough stone seats, when, as I sat hidden among the trees, I caught sight
of something on