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It was just at this juncture that Fatty Watland arrived; smiling and panting, with the pail, borrowed from his mother, full of drinking water. It took him but a moment to learn from one of the boys what had transpired. It took him still less time to reach the platform. There, with much humiliation of spirit and many "sirs," he explained to the greatly surprised, and it must be confessed, secretly relieved Mr. Johnston, the true state of affairs. "I often wish I was at sea again!" exclaimed Sir William, as the two started afresh on their quarterdeck walk. "What a noble, open, hearty, soul-stirring life it is! What good fellows one meets, what brave ships, what splendid crews! It is my hourly regret that my son should be out of it. Though I am his father, I say that this young man had in him—nay, he has in him—all the makings of a fine, dashing, even a great officer. But that devil drink—not that the vice is immoderate with him: but he takes too much; and when the fiend is in him, all that is weak in his nature appears, and he falls: drink—but not so as to justify the word drunkard—drink and gaming—these undid him. He was a favourite with all he sailed with, and yet, through his own accursed folly, he is forced to quit the Navy under circumstances which would bring the moisture into my eyes if half a century of hard weather had not dried all the dampness out of them." "Now, here's some news for you. The will has been found and Frank Stanhope is heir to the Scroggie forest-lands. But if there is oil here—and there is—both you and Pennsylvania Scroggie will be needed. I have no doubt but a satisfactory arrangement on a share producing plan can be made with the owner of the land. I'll see Pennsylvania Scroggie tonight and he'll do what I ask. I pulled him out of a rather tight hole and I guess he won't have forgotten. Come over to Stanhope's cottage in the morning. Now remember what the children and dogs expect of you, my friend; good-bye until tomorrow.".

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And the worthy old sailor chuckled heartily from his throat to the bottom of his waistcoat. She caught her breath quickly and a flush stole up beneath the sun and wind stain on her cheeks. There was that in the pressure of the hand on hers, strong yet tender, which swept the feeling of loneliness from her heart. The morning wood-mists were warm, sweet-scented; the wood-birds' song of thanksgiving was glad with the essence of God-given life. But the man astride the dejected and weary horse saw none of the beauties of his surroundings, heard none of the harmony, experienced none of the exhilaration of the life all about him, as he rode slowly down the winding trail between the trees. He sat erect in his saddle, eyes fixed straight before him. His face was strong and seamed with tiny lines. The prominence of his features was accentuated by the thinness of the face. Beady black eyes burned beneath the shadows of heavy brows. A shock of iron-grey hair brushed his shoulders. In one hand he held a leather-bound book, a long thumb fixed on the printed page from which his attention had been momentarily diverted by his survey of the woodland scene. "You! At your time of life, brother, going a voyage to the West Indies with every probability of the French making a prisoner of you and Lucy!" cried Miss Acton in the[Pg 108] high key in which she saluted the ear when she was alarmed..