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"Oh, we'll soon stand her up again," said Captain Acton. "Did you recognise the Aurora?",

"She don't know how awful lonesome it is settin' still so long," sighed Maurice, casting an appealing eye on Billy's mother. "I wisht you'd ask her to let me go as far as your place with you, Missus Wilson," he pleaded, lowering his voice. "Billy kin trail 'long back with me an' see I don't cut up any.",

CHAPTER VI THE LETTER,

O'Dule had cut a window in the cabin, installed an old stove, table and chairs, and succeeded in making the place home-like enough to suit his simple taste. To-night he stood by the stove, frying potatoes and humming an Irish song. On the table lay a loaf of bread and some butter in a saucer, while close beside it a coal oil lamp gave a smoky light to the room. In the center of the table reposed a huge blue-grey cat, its amber eyes on Harry and its forepaws curled contentedly beneath its furry breast. All about the room hung the skins of wild animals—deer, bear, lynx and coon. A pile of skins lay in one corner. This was O'Dule's bed.

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She bent and gave the dogs a farewell pat; then moved like the spirit of the moonlight to the house. "Good night," she called softly from the doorway.,

"Nerves!" she cried indignantly, sitting bolt upright. "Don't you 'er anybody else dare accuse me of havin' nerves, Tom Wilson. If I wasn't the most sensible-minded person alive I'd be throwin' fits er goin' off into gallopin' hysterics every hour, with the things that Willium does to scare the life out of a body.",

Of this man, a toothless salt whose face was like an old potato, dark with the weather of[Pg 34] vanished days and covered with warts, an affecting story was told: it was evening, and the room was full of seafaring men, and this man, whose name was John Halliburton, sat at the table with a long clay pipe trembling in one hand and a glass of hot rum and water in reach of the other. Several songs had been sung by members of the company, and some one, by way of a joke, asked old John to oblige. To the amazement of everybody the old man put down his pipe, took off his hat, out of which he drew a large red handkerchief with which he polished his face, and then, fixing his lustreless eyes upon the man who had asked him to sing, broke into a song in a strange, quivering, fitful note, as though you should hear a drunken sailor singing in a vault. The assembly was hushed into deep stillness. It was certainly a most unparalleled circumstance for old John to sing. In the middle of the second verse, some old nautical ballad popular fifty years before, he stopped, put his handkerchief into his hat, and his hat upon his head, and resumed his pipe, gazing vacantly at the man who had asked him to sing.,

"No sir," his neighbor answered promptly, "I should say not."