consul's remarks as if to indicate the formality of
their presence there. But a distant railway whistle startled them into
emotion.

"We've lost the train, father!" said the young girl.

The consul followed the direction of her anxious eyes; the train was
just quitting the station at Bannock.

"If ye had not lingered below with Jamie, we'd have been away in time,
ay, and in our own boat," said the father, with marked severity.

The consul glanced quickly at the girl. But her face betrayed no
consciousness, except of their present disappointment.

"There's an excursion boat coming round the Point," he said, pointing
to the black smoke trail of a steamer at the entrance of a loch, "and it
will be returning to St. Kentigern shortly. If you like, we'll pull over
and put you aboard."

"Eh! but it's the Sabbath-breaker!" said the old man harshly.

The consul suddenly remembered that that was the name which the
righteous St. Kentigerners had given to the solitary bold, bad
pleasure-boat that defied their Sabbatical observances.

"Perhaps you won't find very pleasant company on board," said the consul
smiling; "but, then, you're not seeking THAT. And as you would be only
using the boat to get back to your home, and not for Sunday recreation,
I don't think your conscience should trouble you."

"Ay, that's a fine argument, Mr. Consul, but I'm thinkin' it's none the
less sopheestry for a' that," said the father grimly. "No; if ye'll just
land us yonder at Bannock pier, we'll be ay thankin' ye the same."

"But what will you do there? There's no other train to-day."

"Ay, we'll walk on a bit."

The consul was silent. After a pause the young girl lifted her clear
eyes, and with a half pathetic, half childish politeness, said: "We'll
be doing very well--my father and me. You're far too kind."

Nothing further was said as they began to thread their way between a
few large ships and an ocean steamer at anchor, from whose decks a few
Sunday-clothed mariners gazed down admiringly on the smart gig and the
pretty girl in a Tam o' Shanter in its stern sheets. But here a new
idea struck the consul. A cable's length ahead lay a yacht, owned by an
American friend, and at her stern a steam launch swung to its painter.
Without intimating his intention to his passengers he steered for it.
"Bow!--way enough," he called out as the boat glided under the yacht's
counter, and, grasping the companion-ladder ropes, he leaped aboard. In
a f