"The truth is, Mrs Dean, that we have both lost our situations, and that I'm afraid Mr Dempster will be so malicious that he will keep us from getting others."

"Yes, I'm afraid of that," she said sadly.

"So as we have heard that any one who likes to try can get on out there, we did think of going."

"And we do think of going, mother dear," said Esau gently. "Come, try and look at it sensibly. I know you will not like me to go, and when it comes to the time, I shan't like to leave you; but I'm such a sleepy-headed chap, I shall never get on here, and if I go over there it will wake me up."

"But I couldn't part with you, my boy," cried Mrs Dean. "I should be all alone. What would become of me?"

"Why you'd go on just as you are, and I should send you home some money sometimes; and when I've made my fortune I shall come back and make a lady of you."

"No, no, no," she said, with the tears running down her cheeks; "I'd rather stop as we are, Esau."

"Yes, but we can't."

"Yes, we can, dear. I've saved a few pounds now, and it only means working a little harder. I can keep you, and I'm sure—"

"Stop!" roared Esau huskily. "I'm ashamed of you, mother. Do you think I'm going to be such a sop of a fellow as to sit down here and let you keep me? I suppose you'll want to keep Mr Gordon next."

"Then you've got nothing to be ashamed of, I'm sure, sir," said the little woman tartly. "What's enough for two's enough for three, and I was going to say, when you went on like that, that if Mr Gordon wouldn't mind, and not be too proud at things not being quite so plentiful, which everything should be clean as clean, it's very, very welcome you'd be, my dear, for you never could have been nicer if you had been my own boy."

"Mrs Dean," I cried, with a curious feeling in my throat, while Esau looked at me searchingly, as if he thought I was going to accept the offer, "that is quite impossible. Neither Esau nor I could do that. Why, I should be ashamed even to think of it."

"Oh no," said Esau, sarcastically, "it's all right. Let mother do the work, and we two will play at tops and marbles all day."

"Be quiet, Esau. I know you're only teasing. But why not, my dear? I know I'm a very little woman, but I'm very strong."

"It's be quiet, mother, I think," cried Esau angrily. "What do you mean by talking like that to Mr Gordon? I often calls him Gordon, 'cause he's always been such a good chap to me; but I don't forget he's a gentleman's son, and his mother was a born lady. I'm ashamed of you, mother, that I am."

"But it's so dreadful, my boy—worse than your being a soldier. I could come down to Woolwich to see you sometimes."

"No, no, Mrs Dean," I said; "don't say that. It really would be wise for us to go. People do get on out there, and those friends of mine, Mr John Dempster and Mrs John, are going."

"That's it then," cried the little lady angrily. "It's their doing, and it's a shame."

"Here, hold hard, mother!" cried Esau. "I say, is that true?"

"Quite."

"And now you're trying to blind me, Esau," cried Mrs Dean; "but you can't cheat me."

"Who's trying to blind you?"

"You, sir. Just as if you didn't know all the time."

"He did not know, neither did I know till I went up there to-day," I said.

"Ah, I never liked those people. They're only Dempsters, and not content with weaning you away from me, they've done the same now with my boy."

"Did you ever hear such an unbelieving old creature," cried Esau excitedly. "Mr and Mrs John D. going! Why you've coaxed 'em into it."

"You don't deceive me; you don't deceive me," said Mrs Dean, sobbing.

"Be quiet, mother!—But how is it they're going?"

"For Mrs John's health. I told you before they said they might go to Canada."

"So you did."

"Of course you did," said Mrs Dean, scornfully.

"They are going to join Mrs John's brother, who is manager out at a Hudson's Bay Company's station."

"Hudson's Bay," said Esau, making a grimace; "that's up at the North Pole. I don't want to go there."

"Nonsense!" I said; "it's somewhere in British Columbia."

"Hudson's Bay, Baffin's Bay, Davis' Straits—all up at the North Pole. Think nobody never learnt jography but you?"

"Ah, well, never mind where it is," I said impatiently; "they're going out there."

"And they've coaxed you two boys away from a poor lone widow woman to go with them," cried Mrs Dean; "and it's a sin and a shame."

"I assure you, Mrs Dean—"

"No, sir, you can't."

"Will you be quiet, mother!" cried Esau angrily, "and go on with your supper, and let us. You're crying right into the salt."

"I'm not, sir! and I will not be put down by a boy like you. I say you shan't go."

"And I say I shall," replied Esau surlily. "If you don't know what's for the best, I do."

"It isn't for the best, and it's cruel of you, Esau."

"Well," said Esau, turning to me, "I've made up my mind, Gordon; she won't care when it's all over, and then she'll see it's for the best for all of us. So once for all, will you stick to it?"

"Yes," I said, "I am quite determined now."

"Hear that, mother?"

"Oh yes, I hear, sir."

"Then don't say sir; and let's finish supper comfortably, for I haven't had half enough. But let's have it all over, and then settle down to it. So once for all, I'm going out to British Columbia to make my fortune."

Mrs Dean had been sitting down for some little time now, and as Esau said these last words she started up, gave the table a sharp slap with her hand, looked defiantly at us both, and exclaimed—

"Then I shall come too."

We two lads sank back in our chairs astonished. Then we looked at each other, and we ended by bursting out laughing.

"Oh, all right," said Esau at last. "That's right, mother.—She's coming to do the shooting for us while we build up the house."

"Ah, you may laugh, sir. But if that's a place that is good for two lads like you to get on in, it's a good place for a respectable hard-working woman who can wash, and cook, and bake bread, whether it's loaves or cakes."

"Well, mother can make cakes," said Esau, "and good ones."

"Of course I can, sir; and very glad you'll be of 'em too when you're thousands of miles from a baker's shop."

"Yes; but the idee of your coming!" cried Esau. "Haw, haw, haw!"

Somehow it did not seem to me such a very preposterous "idee," as Esau called it, for just then I too had an idea. Mrs John was going that long waggon journey; what could be better for her than to have a clever little managing, hard-working woman like Mrs Dean with her?

But I did not say anything about it then, for I had to think the matter over. Only a few hours ago it had seemed as if my connection with Esau was likely to be in the way of my accompanying the Dempsters; now matters were taking a form that looked as if my friendliness with him was to be the reason, not only for my being their companion, but of helping them admirably as well.

But matters were not quite in shape yet, and we all went to bed that night feeling as if Esau's opinion was correct—that the little supper had not been a success.



CHAPTER NINE.

DIFFICULTIES.

Mrs Dean was in waiting for me next morning, and attacked me directly.

"Do, do, pray try and help me, my dear," she whispered, so that her voice might not rise to the little bed-room where we could hear Esau stamping about, knocking the jug against the basin, and snorting like a hippopotamus over his ablutions. "You have such a way with you, and Esau looks up to you so as being a gentleman, and I know he'll do what you tell him."

"Nonsense, Mrs Dean!" I said; "surely he'll mind his mother more than he does me."

"No, my dear, no," she said sadly. "He has always been the dearest and best of boys, and I used to make him think just as I liked; but of late, since he has been grown big and strong, he generally ends by making me think as he likes, and he is so obstinate."

"Oh no; he's a very good fellow."

"Yes, my dear. Hush! don't talk so loud. You see he has got it into his head that it is the best thing for us, and I want you to get it out."

"But how can I, when I think the same?"

"Now, Mr Gordon, my dear, you don't—you can't think it's best for you two boys to go trapesing hundreds of thousands of miles, and going living among wild beasts in forests."

"I'm afraid I do, without the wild beasts," I said.

"But suppose you were both taken ill, my dear, there's no hospitals, or dispensaries, or doctors out there."

"But you said you would come with us, and if we were taken ill, where could we get a better nurse?"

"It's very kind of you to say so, my dear, and of course I shouldn't think of going without some camomiles, and poppy-heads, and a little castor-oil, and salts and senny, and jollop. Yes, and a roll of sticking-plaster. And that reminds me, how is your poor ear?"

"Oh, not very bad," I said laughing. "But there, I'm afraid I cannot do what you wish, Mrs Dean, for if Esau does not come, I shall certainly go myself."

"And he'd be sure to, then, my dear. He'd have been a soldier by this time, only you kind of held him back. He does think such a deal of—"

"Hallo, you two! Ketched you, have I, making plots and plans?"

"No, no, my dear."

"Why, you've been coaxing him to get me not to go."

"Well, my dear, it was something of that sort."

"Yes, I know, mother. That's just like you, trying to stop me when I'm going to make a big fortune."

"But you don't know that you are, my dear. Such lots of people go abroad to make fortunes, and I never knew one yet who brought a fortune back."

"Then you're going to know two now—him and me. Breakfast ready?"

"Yes, my dears; and I thought you'd like some hot rolls, so I went and got 'em."

"I say, mother, you're going it. Hot rolls! Are they buttered?"

"Yes, my dear, and in the oven."

"Did you cut 'em in three?"

"Yes, dear, and put plenty of butter in, as you like them."

"Hooray! Come on then, and let's begin."

"But, Esau dear, if you'll only promise to stop, you shall have hot rolls for breakfast every morning. You shall, if I work night and day."

"Then Esau and I would rather have hard biscuit and dry bread out yonder, Mrs Dean," I said warmly; and Esau shouted—

"Hear, hear!"

Two days passed, then a third, and we had been out, and, to please Esau's mother, tried in several places to get engagements. But we soon found that it was hopeless, and after tramping about for hours went back to the cottage.

"Such waste of time, and such a lot of trouble," grumbled Esau. "Why, we might have done a lot of good work hunting, or shooting, or gardening, out in Merriky yonder."

But Mrs Dean only shook her head, and told us to try again; and we tried.

I think it was on the fourth evening that we were sitting in the little kitchen, tired, discontented, and miserable, with Mrs Dean stitching away more quickly than ever, when we all started, for there was a double knock at the door, "Hullo!" cried Esau.

"Hush! my dear," said his mother, mysteriously; "I know. It's either Mr Dempster to beg you to go back, or news about a new place."

She smoothed her apron and went to the door, picking off threads and ravelings from her dress so as to look neat, though that she always looked; and the next moment I ran to the door too, for I heard a familiar voice, and to my surprise found both Mr and Mrs John.

"Ah, my dear boy," he cried eagerly, "we were getting uneasy about you, and thought you must be ill. My wife could not rest till we came."

I led them into the little parlour, and placed chairs; while Mrs Dean, after a humble courtesy, went away into the kitchen.

"Is that your landlady?" continued Mrs John, as she glanced quickly round; and, before I could answer, "How beautifully neat and clean."

"Yes, beautifully," assented Mr John, hurriedly. "Have you heard of an engagement, Mayne?"

"No, sir," I said sadly.

"Then you have not tried?"

"Indeed, sir, both Esau and I have tried very hard, as his mother is so averse to his going abroad."

"Then you have given up all thought of going abroad, my dear boy?"

I shook my head.

"But you should, Mayne," said Mrs John, in rather a low voice. "We are forced to go for my health's sake, but you are young and strong, and with energy you ought to succeed here."

"I should like to do what you think right, ma'am," I said sadly.

"And we both think it right, my boy," said Mr John. "We should dearly like to have you with us; but it would be unjust to you to encourage you to take a step which you might afterwards bitterly repent, and we should feel ourselves to blame."

I looked at Mrs John, and she took my hand, and said sadly—

"Yes, we have had many talks about it, Mayne, and we can only come to that conclusion."

"Then you are both going away, and I shall never see you again?" I said bitterly.

"Who can say?" said Mrs John, smiling. "You know why I am going. I may come back in a few years strong and well, to find you a prosperous and—Ah!"

"Alexes! my child!" cried Mr John in agony, for Mrs John, who had been speaking in a low voice, suddenly changed colour, raised her hands to her throat, as she uttered a low sigh, and would have fallen from her chair if I had not caught and supported her.

We were lifting her to the little horse-hair couch, when there was a tap at the door, and Mrs Dean appeared.

"Is anything the—"

"Matter," she would have said, but as she caught sight of Mrs John's white face, she came forward quickly, and with all the clever management of a practised nurse, assisted in laying the fainting woman back on the couch.

"She's weak, and been trying to do too much, sir."

"Yes, yes, I was afraid," cried Mr John. "But she would come—to see you, Mayne. Tell me where—I'll run for a doctor."

"Oh no, sir," said Mrs Dean, quietly; "I'll bathe her temples a bit. She'll soon come round."

Mrs Dean hurried out of the room, and was back directly with basin, sponge, towels, and a tiny little silver box.

"You hold that to her nose, Mr Gordon, while I sponge her face. Mind— it's very strong."

"But a doctor," panted Mr John in agony. "She has been so terribly ill. This was too much for her."

"If you fetched a doctor, sir, he'd tell us to do just what we're a-doing. Bathe her face and keep her head low. There, poor dear! she's coming round. Oh, how thin and white she is!"

Mrs Dean was quite right, for under her ministrations the patient soon opened her eyes, to look vacantly about for a few moments, and murmur—

"So weak—so weak."

"Are you better, dearest?" whispered her husband.

She smiled feebly, and closed her eyes for a time. Then with a deep sigh she looked up again, and made an effort to rise.

"Ah, that's right," said Mr John; "you feel better."

"No, no," said Mrs Dean, firmly, "not yet. She must lie still till the faintness has gone off, or she'll bring it back," and, with a sigh, Mrs John resigned herself to the stronger will, Mr John nodding at me, and saying in a whisper—

"Yes, Mayne; she knows best."

A few minutes later Mrs Dean went towards the door.

"I'll be back again directly," she whispered. "I want to speak to Esau."

She was back directly, and Mrs John held out her hand to her.

"Thank you, thank you so very much," she whispered. "I am so sorry to have given you all this trouble."

Mrs Dean laughed.

"Trouble!" she said, merrily; "as if it was trouble for one woman to help another. I mean a lady," she said, colouring.

There was silence for a few moments, and then Mrs John said—

"I thought I must come down to see Mayne. Has he told you of his wish to go with us to the West?"

"Told me?" cried Mrs Dean, excitedly. "Ah, now you are talking about trouble indeed."

"We came down to tell him that it is impossible—foolish of him to think of such a thing."

"Oh, thank you kindly, ma'am," cried Mrs Dean; "and me thinking all kinds of evil of you, and that you had been persuading him to go."

"No, no, my good woman, no," said Mr John.

"And thank you too, sir. And I hope Mr Gordon will take it to heart, for if he had gone my Esau would have been sure to go too, and I should have seemed to be quite alone in the world."

"Yes, it would be hard for you," said Mrs John, looking at her searchingly. "Mayne, my dear, you will not try and influence her son?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, but he don't, ma'am, never," said Mrs Dean, eagerly; "he crosses him; but my Esau always sets Mr Gordon here up for a hidle, and thinks whatever he does must be right."

"Why, Mayne," said Mr John, smiling, "I did not know you were such a model boy."

"Oh, but he is, sir," cried Mrs Dean; "and my Esau is ever so much better since—"

"I'm going for a walk," I said, with my face scarlet.

But just then there was a tap at the door, to which Mrs Dean responded, and came back directly with a little tray, on which was her favourite black teapot and its companions.

"I'm afraid, ma'am, it isn't such tea as you're used to, but I thought a cup—and my boy Esau got it ready."

Mrs John gave her a grateful look, and soon after, very much refreshed, she quite sat up, Mrs Dean helping her to a chair.

"But oh, my dear," she said, "you're so weak and thin; you're not fit to take a long voyage and a journey such as Mr Gordon talked about."

"If I stay in England I shall die," said Mrs John, sadly.

"Oh, don't say that, my—ma'am. But are you going alone?"

"No; with my husband."

"And soon?"

"The vessel sails in a fortnight."

"A fortnight? There, Mr Gordon, you see you could not go. It is too soon."

"And you will give up all thought of going, Mayne?" said Mrs John, "for our sake."

I was silent for a few moments, and then my voice was very husky as I said—

"For some years now I have had no friends except Mrs Dean and her son. Then I met Mr John Dempster, and since then it has been like having old times. Now you are going away, and you say don't go too."

"Yes, yes," said Mrs John; "I am speaking for your good."

"I know you think you are, Mrs John; but if Mr John here had at my age been placed in my position, I'm sure he would not have done as you advise."

"I'm afraid I should, my boy," he faltered. "I never did have your energy."

"Then I can't help it," I cried. "I shall not say good-bye to you, for go I must."

"Oh, Mr Gordon," cried Mrs Dean, "if you go Esau is sure to go too."

"Then we will try the harder either to make you a home out there, or to come back here prosperous men."

"Then I say it again," cried Mrs Dean, just as if she were putting my hopes into shape, "you two couldn't make a home comfortable; so if it is to be, why there's an end of it. And look here, sir and ma'am, this poor dear is not fit to go all that long journey alone, and as I'm going too, I shall come along with you and tend to her, and do the best I can."

"Oh no, no," cried Mrs John.

"It is impossible," said Mr John.

"Do you want to wake up some day, sir," cried the little woman firmly, "and find this poor, weak, suffering thing dying for want of help? Of course you don't. Here, Esau," she cried, throwing open the door.

"Yes, mother; more hot water?" came from the kitchen.

"No; you may begin to pack up. We're going across the sea."

Before Mr and Mrs John left us that night it was all settled; and when I returned from going part of the way with them, I found Esau and his mother hard at work, planning as to what was to be taken and what sold, Mrs Dean rousing her son's anger as I entered the kitchen, and making him stamp.

"Why, what is the matter?"

"Mother is so obstinate," he cried.

"Why, what about? Does she say now she will not go?"

"No, Mr Gordon, I only told him I must take my four flat-irons with me. They don't take up much room, and take 'em I will. Why, bless the boys! do you think you won't want clean shirts?"



CHAPTER TEN.

OFF TO THE WEST.

That was really the prime difficulty in our leaving England—to keep Mrs Dean's ideas of necessaries within bounds. Poor little woman! She could not, try how her son and I would to make her, understand what was the meaning of simple necessaries.

"Now it's of no use for you to fly in a passion with your poor mother, Esau," she used to say. "I've consented to go with you to this wild savage land, but I must have a few things to make the house comfortable when we get there."

"But don't I tell you you can't take 'em, because they won't have 'em aboard ship; and you can't stuff 'em in a waggon and carry 'em millions of miles when you get across."

"If you wouldn't be so unreasonable, Esau. There, I appeal to Mr Gordon."

"So do I," roared Esau. "Does mother want a great ironing-board?"

"No," I said; "we can make you hundreds out there."

"Oh dear me. You'll say next I mustn't take my blankets and sheets."

"You must only take what you can pack in one big chest," I said.

"But no chest would hold what I want to take," whimpered the poor little woman. "I declare if I'd known that I was to give up everything I have scraped together all these years I wouldn't have consented to go. Here, Esau, what are you going to do with those ornaments?"

"Set 'em aside for the broker."

"Esau, I must take them."

"All right, mother. We'll have a ship on purpose for you, and you shall take the kitchen fender, the coal-scuttle, the big door-mat, and the old four-post bedstead."

"Oh, thank you, my dear; that is good of—Esau! you're laughing at me, and you too, Mr Gordon. I declare it's too bad."

"So it is, mother—of you. Once for all, I tell you that you must pack things that will be useful in one big chest, and you can take a few things that you'll want on the voyage and in the waggon in a carpet bag."

"But it's ruinous, my dear—all my beautiful things I've taken such pride in to be sacrificed."

"Oh, do hark at her!" cried Esau, sticking two fingers in his ears, and stamping about. "I wish to goodness I'd never had no mother."

"Then you're a cruel, ungrateful boy, and you'll break my heart before you've done. Mr Gordon, what am I to do?"

"To try and think that we are going to start a new life, and that when Esau makes a new home for you, all these household things can be got together by degrees."

"But it's ruin, my dear. All these things will go for nothing."

"They won't, I tell you," roared Esau. "How many more times am I to tell you that Dingle will give us fifty pounds for 'em? Him and another man's joining, and they're going to put 'em in sales; and if they don't make so much, we've got to pay them, and if they make more, Dingle's going to pay us. What more do you want?"

"Nothing, my dear; I've done," said Mrs Dean in a resigned tone, such as would have made a bystander think that the whole business was settled. It was not, however, for the next day most likely the whole argument would be gone through again about some trifle.

Meanwhile I had been helping Mr John, and here Mr Dingle's knowledge came in very helpful, and he devoted every spare minute he had, working so well, that he arranged with one of our well-known auctioneers to take the furniture of the cottage, and triumphantly brought Mr John a cheque for far more than he expected to receive.

One way and another, Mr John was well provided with funds, laughingly telling me he had never been so rich before, as I went with him to his landlord's to give up the key of the pleasant little house.

For during the rapidly passing days of that fortnight everything had been settled, a passage had been secured for Mrs Dean in the same vessel by which Mr and Mrs John were going, and it had been finally decided that Esau and I were to go by quite a different route. For while they were to go by swift steamer across to Quebec, and from there through Canada with one or other of the waggon-trains right to Fort Elk, on the upper waters of the Fraser, we lads were, after seeing the little party off to Liverpool, to go on board the Albatross, a clipper ship bound from London to the River Plate, and round by Cape Horn to San Francisco, from which port we were to find our way north the best way we could.

There would be no difficulty, we were told, for vessels often sailed from the Golden Gate to the mouth of the Fraser, but our voyage would be slow.

It would be rapid though compared to the land journey across the prairies. Our trip would probably last five months, more if our stay at San Francisco were long; but allowing for halts at the settlements, and the deliberate way in which, for Mrs John's benefit, the journey was to be made, their trip would extend to a year—probably more.

Mr John had gone through it all with me again and again, reading long extracts from his brother-in-law's letter written expressly for their guidance, till I knew them pretty well by heart. In these he was told to hasten on to the high and mountainous lands, for it was there the advantage to Mrs John would be. They would find it cold as the autumn passed into winter during their journey, intensely cold, perhaps; but it would be bright and sunshiny as a rule, and the clear pure air of the elevated regions gave health and strength.

I thought a great deal about it, and felt puzzled sometimes, wondering whether it could be wise to take a delicate woman all that tremendous distance. But I was too young, I thought, to have opinions worth consideration, and I always came to the conclusion that my elders must know best.

Then came the day for parting, so quickly that I could hardly believe it. The luggage had gone on some days before to Liverpool, and there were Esau and I seeing after the few things that were to accompany the travellers in their cabins, as we stood on the platform at Euston.

Mrs John looked terribly thin and worn, more suited, I thought, for going at once to her bed than to venture on such a terrible journey; but there was a bright, hopeful look in her eyes as I helped her to her seat, and she spoke quite cheerily as she held my hand, Mr John holding the other, and we occupied ourselves with our final good-byes, so as not to notice Mrs Dean and her son. But I could not help hearing Esau's words—

"Oh, I say, mother, don't—don't! You must get to your seat now. There, good-bye, dear. It isn't so very far after all, and we'll be there waiting for you, and ready to welcome you when you come."

"But is it right, dear?" she said; "is it right?"

"'Course it is. Don't turn coward. You must go now all the things are sold."

There was a final embrace; Mrs Dean was hurried into her seat, the door closed; Mr John pressed my hand hard without a word, and Mrs John put her arms about my neck and kissed me.

"God bless you! au revoir!" she said.

"Stand back, sir, please," some one shouted; the engine gave a piercing shriek, and Esau and I stood on the stone platform watching the train glide away with many a head out of the window, and hand and kerchief waving growing more and more confused, while a sense of desolation and loneliness oppressed me till I quite started at my companion's words.

"Oh, won't poor mother have a big cry up in a corner all the way down. It's very rum, but I suppose she is fond of me."

"Fond of you?" I said; "of course."

"Well," he said, "here we are, passages paid, and all that money in our pockets, and nothing to do for two days. What shall us do—go and have a bit of fun, or get on board at the docks?"

"Get on board the Albatross," I said. "There don't seem to me as if there is any more fun in the world."

"Well now, that is a strange thing," said Esau; "that's just how I feel. Look here."

"What at?"

"I feel just in the humour for it—as cross and nasty as can be. Let's go and say good-bye to old Demp."

But we did not; we went sadly to the docks, where our boxes already were, and that night took possession of our berths.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

SEVENTEEN WEEKS AT SEA.

"Much better have let me had it my way, sir," said Esau, who, ever since he had seen the John Dempsters and their treatment of me, had grown to behave as if I was his superior.

He spoke those words one day when we had been at sea about a week, the weather having been terribly rough, and the passengers suffering severely.

"Oh, I don't know, Esau," I said, rather dolefully.

"I do, sir. If you'd done as I wanted you we should ha' been walking about Woolwich now in uniform, with swords under our arms; and I don't know how you get on, but I can't walk at all."

"You should catch hold of something."

"Catch hold o' something? What's the good when the ship chucks you about just as if you were a ball. See that chap over there?"

"What, that one-eyed man?"

"Yes; he was going to hit me just now."

"What for?"

"'Cause I run my head into his chest. I couldn't help it. I'd got my legs precious wide apart, and was going steadily, when the ship gave a regular jump and then seemed to wag her tail, and sent me flying, and when I pollergized to him he said I was always doing it, and ought to sit down."

"Well, it is safest, Esau," I said; "I've got several nasty bruises."

"Bruises! Why, I'm bruised all over, and haven't got a place left clear for another, so I've begun again making fresh bruises top of the old 'uns."

I laughed.

"Ah, I don't see nothing to grin at. If you was as sore as I am you wouldn't laugh. Wouldn't have ketched me coming to sea if I'd known how bad it was. Why, it's like being knocked about by old Demp, only worse, for you've got no one to hit back at."

"It's only a storm, Esau, and you'll like it when the weather's fine again."

"Not me. Like it! Look here; I've read books about your yo-ho sailors and jolly tars, and your bright blue seas, but them as wrote 'em ought to be flogged. Why, it's horrid. Oh, how ill I have been. I wouldn't ha' cared if mother had been here. She would ha' been sorry for me; 'stead o' everybody laughing, as if it was good fun."

"Well, you can laugh at them."

"Yes, and I just will too. Oh, hark at that. Here, hold tight, sir! we're going."

For a tremendous wave struck the ship, making it quiver as tons of water washed over her, seeming to beat her down; but she rose as if shaking herself, and then made a pitch.

"I say," cried Esau, "I didn't know ships went like fishes sometimes."

"What do you mean?" I said, as I listened to the rush and roar, and noticed that it seemed to be getting dark.

"Why, swim right under water. Shall we ever come up again. Hah! that's better," for the light streamed in again through the thick round glass at the side by our heads. "I've had about enough of this, sir. What do you say to getting out at the next pier and walking back?"

"Oh, Esau," I cried, "don't be such a Cockney. What pier? This is not a river steamer."

"I only wish it was. But I say, I can't eat, and I can't sleep, and I'm sore outside and in. Let's go back and follow mother and them two in a waggon."

"But don't you know that we should have a rough voyage across first?"

"Couldn't be so rough as this. Oh, there it goes again. I know we're going to dive down right to the bottom. Wish we could, and then we might get out and walk. Here, let's go on deck."

"We can't," I said.

"No," said the one-eyed man, a big, broad, Saxon-looking fellow, "we're battened down."

"Oh, are we?" said Esau.

"Yes; you can't go up till this weather's better. Want to be washed overboard?"

"I should like to be washed somewhere," said Esau, "for I feel very dirty and miserable."

"Sit down and wait patiently, my lad," said the man; "and don't you come butting that curly head of yours into me again, like an old Southdown ram coming at a man. I don't want my ribs broke."

"Have you been at sea before?" I said to him, as he sat back smoking a short pipe.

"Often. Been to 'Stralia, and New Zealand, and the Cape."

"Was it ever as rough as this?"

"Worse," he said, laconically.

"But not so dangerous?" said Esau, in a questioning tone.

"Worse," said the man gruffly.

"But we keep seeming as if we should go to the bottom," said Esau, fretfully.

"Well, if we do, we do, boy. We're in for it, so what's the good o' making a fuss?"

"I don't see no good in being drowned without saying a word," grumbled Esau. "We two paid ever so much for the passage, and a pretty passage it is."

"Oh, it'll be all right if you keep quiet; but if you get wandering about as you do, we shall have you going right through the bulk-head, and have to get the carpenter to cut you out with a saw."

"Wish he was as ill as I am," whispered Esau.

"Thank ye," said the man, nodding at him. "My eyes are a bit queer, but my ears are sharp."

"Where do you suppose we are?" I said.

"Off Spain somewhere, and I dare say we shall be in smooth water before long. Shan't be sorry for a little fresh air myself."

I was longing for it, our experience being not very pleasant down in the crowded steerage; and I must confess to feeling sorry a good many times that I had come.

But after a couple more days of misery, I woke one morning to find that the ship was gliding along easily, and in the sweet, fresh air and warm sunshine we soon forgot the troubles of the storm.

The weather grew from pleasantly warm to terribly hot, with calms and faint breezes; and then as we sailed slowly on we began to find the weather cooler again, till by slow degrees we began to pass into wintry weather, with high winds and showers of snow. And this all puzzled Esau, whose knowledge of the shape of the earth and a ship's course were rather hazy.

"Yes; it puzzles me," he said. "We got from coolish weather into hotter; then into hot, and then it grew cooler again, and now it's cold; and that Mr Gunson says as soon as we're round the Horn we shall get into wet weather, and then it will be warmer every day once more."

And so it of course proved, for as we rounded the Cape, and got into the Pacific, we gradually left behind mountains with snow in the hollows and dark-looking pine trees, to go sailing on slowly day after day through dreary, foggy wet days. Then once more into sunshine, with distant peaks of mountain points on our right, as we sailed on within sight of the Andes; and then on for weeks till we entered the Golden Gates, and were soon after at anchor off San Francisco.

Seventeen weeks after we had come out of the West India Docks, and every one said we had had a capital passage, and I suppose it was; but we passed through a very dreary time, and it is impossible to describe the feeling of delight that took possession of us as we looked from the deck at the bright, busy-looking city, with its forest of masts, tall houses, and dry, bare country round.

Esau and I were leaning against the bulwarks, gazing at the shore, upon which we were longing to set foot, when Gunson, who had all through the voyage been distant and rather surly, came up behind us.

"Well, youngsters," he said, "going ashore?"

"Yes," I said, "as soon as we can get our chests."

"Well, good-bye, and good luck to you. Got any money?"

"A little," I replied, rather distantly, for I did not like the man's manner.

He saw it, and laughed.

"Oh, I'm not going to beg or borrow," he said roughly. "I was only going to say put it away safe, and only keep a little out for use."

"Oh, we're not fools," said Esau, shortly.

"Don't tell lies, boy," said the man, giving him an angry look. "Don't you be too clever, because you'll always find some one cleverer. Look here," he continued, turning to me, "perhaps you're not quite so clever as he is. I thought I'd just say a word before I go about the people here. There's plenty of a good sort, but there's a set hanging about the wharfs and places that will be on the look-out to treat you two lads like oranges—suck you dry, and then throw away the skins. Going to stop here?"

"No," I said; "we are going up country to join some friends."

"Then you get up country and join your friends as soon as you can. That's all. Good-bye."

He nodded shortly at me, but did not offer to shake hands.

"Good-bye, sharp 'un," he growled at Esau.

"Good-bye," said Esau, defiantly, and then the man turned away.

"Never did like chaps with one eye," said Esau. "Strikes me that he's pretending to be so innocent, and all the while he's just the sort of fellow to try and cheat you."

"Oh no," I said; "he's not a pleasant fellow, but I think he's honest."

"I don't," cried Esau. "He took a fancy to that four-bladed knife of mine on the voyage, and he has been waiting till he was going to leave the ship. I'm not going to make a row about it, 'cause I might be wrong; but I had that knife last night, and this morning it's gone."

"And you think he stole it?"

"I shan't say one thing nor I shan't say another. All I know is, that my knife's gone."

"But hadn't you better have him stopped and searched?"

"What, and if the knife ain't found, have him glaring at me with that eye of his as if he would eat me? Not I. We're in a strange country, with 'Mericans, and Indians, and Chinese all about, and we've got to be careful. All I say is, my knife's gone."

"There, put it in your pocket," I said, handing him the knife, "and don't be so prejudiced against a man who wanted to give us a bit of friendly advice."

"Why! eh? How? You took the knife then."

"Nonsense; you lent it to me last night when I was packing up our things."

Esau doubled his fist, and gave himself a good punch on the head.

"Of course I did," he cried. "Well of all! Why how! I say, my head must be thick after all."



CHAPTER TWELVE.

WE GET INTO HOT WATER.

We were on shore next day, and, by the captain's advice, went to a kind of hotel, where they undertook, not very willingly, to accommodate us, the captain having promised to help us in getting a ship for the Fraser River. But though day after day passed, and we went to him again and again, he was always too busy about his cargo being discharged, or seeing other people, to attend to us, and at last we sat one day on some timber on a wharf, talking about our affairs rather despondently.

"We seem to be regularly stuck fast, Esau," I said; "and one feels so helpless out in a strange place like this."

"Yes," he said; "and the money goes so fast."

"Yes," I said, "the money goes so fast. We must get away from here soon."

"Couldn't walk up to what-its-name, could we?"

"Walk? Nonsense! Many, many hundreds of miles through a wild country, and over mountains and rivers."

"Well, I shouldn't mind that, lad. It would all be new."

"We shall have plenty of that when we get to British Columbia."

"What's all this then?" he said.

"Part of the United States—California."

"Oh, ah! of course. Seems to me I spent so much time learning to write a good hand, that I don't know half so much of other things as I should."

"Plenty of time for learning more, Esau."

"Yes, plenty of time. Seem to have more time than we want, and I don't enjoy going about much, though there's plenty to see. One's so unsettled like."

"Yes; we want to get to our journey's end."

"So this is California, is it? That's where they got so much gold. I say, let's stop here."

"Nonsense! We must get to Fort Elk, and see what is to be done there till Mr John comes."

"All right, I'm ready for anything. Here's one of the chaps coming who wanted us to let him get us a ship yesterday."

For just then a yellow-looking fellow, one of the many idlers who hung about the docks, came slouching along towards us; and as soon as I saw him I whispered a word or two to Esau, and we got up and walked away, with the man still following us at a little distance.

"Those chaps smell money is my belief," said Esau.

"Yes, and Mr Gunson was right. We mustn't trust any one, but wait till the Captain tells us of some respectable skipper who's going up North and will take us."

"That's it. I say, what rum-looking chaps these Chinees are," continued Esau, as a man in blue, with a long pig-tail, passed us and smiled. "Why, he don't know us, does he?"

"We don't know him," I replied.

We went on past the crowded wharves, where ships were loading and unloading, and then by the grey-tinted wooden buildings, all bright and fresh-looking in the sunshine. Everybody nearly seemed busy and in a hurry except us, and the idle-looking scoundrels who hung about the drinking and gambling saloons, into one or two of which Esau peered curiously as we went by; and then, as if attracted by the shipping, we made our way again down by the wharves in hopes of hearing of a vessel that would take us on.

I have known well enough since, that had we been better instructed, all this would have been simple enough; but to us ignorant lads, fresh come from England, it was a terrible problem to solve, one which grew more difficult every day. In those days, when settlers were few, and Vancouver Island just coming into notice, there was no regular steamer, only a speculative trading-vessel now and then. Still there was communication, if we had only known where to apply.

We were watching one vessel just setting out on her voyage, and thinking that in an hour or two she would be outside the great opening to the harbour, and abreast of the bare, whitish-looking cliffs which form that part of the Californian coast, when Esau said—

"I wonder whether she's going up to Fraser River. I say, why didn't we find out she was going to sail, and ask?"

"You want to go up the Fraser River?" said a voice close behind us. "Guess I never see such chaps as you. Why didn't you say so sooner?"

We both faced round at once, and found that the man who had been haunting us for days was close behind us, and had heard every word. "Look here," said Esau, shortly. "There, don't you got rusty, stranger. That's the worst of you Englishers, you think everybody wants tew hurt you."

"Come along," I whispered.

"Yew just let him alone. He's all right. Now here's yew tew have landed here days, yew may say, outer the Albytross, and yew goes to spensife hotel, wasting yew're money, when we've got quite a home for strangers like yew for half what yew pay, and we'll get yew a ship to Fraser, Skimalt, or wheer yew like."

As he was speaking three more men sauntered slowly up and stood looking on—men whom I felt sure I had seen with him before, and it made me uneasy, especially as a couple more came out of a low-looking saloon close by, and we were some distance from the better part of the city.

"Look here," I said sharply, "do you know of a ship going to sail to the Fraser River, or to Esquimalt?"

"Why, of course I do. Here, where's your money? It's twenty-five dollars a-piece. Splendid berths, best of living. Like gentlemen aboard. Hand over, and I'll take you to where they give out the tickets."

"Thank you," I said. "I should like to see the ship, and an agent."

"But don't I tell yew everything's first chip, and I'll do it for yew as yew're strangers."

"Yes, it's very kind of you," I said; "but I won't trouble you."

"Trouble? Oh, come, we're not like that here to strangers. Nonsense, lad. Hand over."

"We're not going to give twenty-five dollars a piece, I can tell you," put in Esau.

"Why, it's next to nothing for a voyage like that. But there, never mind, you two are new-comers, and the skipper's a friend of mine. I'll put you right with him for twenty dollars each. Here, hi! Any of you know the Pauliner?"

"Know her? yes," said one of the men hard by; and they all came up and surrounded us. "What about her?"

"Sails for the Fraser, don't she, to-morrow?"

"Yes, of course."

"Splendid clipper, ain't she, with cabins and all chip chop?"

"Yes," came in chorus.

"There, what more do you want? Come along, lads; lucky I met you. Come and have a drink."

"No, thank you," I said. "Come, Esau."

"Get," said the man with a forced laugh. "What's the good of being strangers. Come and have a drink. I'll pay."

"Pay? Ah," said the second man; "and we'll all share in turn. Come on in here."

This fellow clapped his hand on my shoulder with a boisterous display of friendliness, while the firstcomer thrust his hand through Esau's arm, and began to lead him toward the saloon.

"That will do," I said, trying to be cool, for I began to fear that we were being dragged into some disturbance, and felt that the time had come to be firm. "We are much obliged to you for your friendliness, but we neither of us drink. Be good enough to tell me where the agent of the ship lives, and I'll give you half-a-dollar."

"Nonsense! come and have a drink, my lad."

"No, thank you," I said. "Come, Esau."

"Why, what a fellow you are. Very well, then, hand over the twenty dollars each, if you can't take a friendly drop. I'll get the tickets for you all the same."

"No, no," said the other man. "Let's do no business without a drink first; they think we want to make them pay, but I'll stand liquors for the lot."

"No, let 'em have their own way," said the first man; "they're not used to our customs. You let 'em alone. I'm going to get 'em passages in the Paulina, for twenty dollars each. Come, lads, where's your money?"

I glanced quickly to right and left, but we seemed to be away from help, and, strangers as we were, in the lower part of the port, quite at the mercy of these men. Then, having made up my mind what to do, I pressed up to Esau, pushing rather roughly by our first friend.

"Now, Esau," I said, "back to the hotel. Straight on," I whispered. "Run!"

"I bet you don't," said our first friend; "that trick won't do here, stranger;" and his smooth looks and tones gave place to a scowl and the air of a bully. "Come along, Esau," I said sharply. "No, nor you don't come along neither," said the man, as the others closed round us as if out of curiosity, but so as to effectually bar our retreat.

"What's matter?" said one who had not yet spoken.

"Matter?" cried our friend. "Why jest this. These here tew have been holding me off and on for three days, wanting me to get 'em a ship to take 'em to Esquimalt. First they wanted to go for ten, then they'd give fifteen."

"Fifteen dollars to Skimalt?" cried the new man. "Gammon."

"That's so," said our friend. "Last they said they'd give twenty dollars a-piece, and after a deal o' trouble we got 'em berths, and paid half the money down; now they want to back out of it."

"Oh, yes," cried the second man; "that won't do here, mates."

"It's not true," I said, indignantly. "And now wants to bounce me out of it. Here, yew wouldn't hev that, mates, would yew?"

There was a regular excited chorus here, and the men closed in upon us, so that we were quite helpless, and for a moment I felt that we must buy ourselves out of our awkward position. But a glance at Esau showed that he was stubborn and angry as I, and that if called upon he would be ready to fight for it, and make a dash for liberty.

Those were only momentary thoughts, for we were two lads of sixteen or seventeen against a gang of strong men who were holding us now, and our position was hopeless.

Just then our first friend said in a carneying tone—

"There, don't be hard on 'em, mates. They're going to be reasonable. Now then, are you going to pay those twenty dollars each for your passages?"

"No," I said, choking with rage.

"Yew don't mean to go in the Pauliner?"

"No, we don't," cried Esau.

"Very well, then, yew must each on yew pay the smart. I paid for yew— ten dollars each, and tew fur my trouble. That's fair, ain't it, mates?"

"Ay, ay. Make 'em pay three dollars," was chorussed.

"There, yew hear 'em, so out with the spots, and no more nonsents."

"You won't get no money out o' me," cried Esau, fiercely.

"Nor from me," I cried.

"We'll soon see that. Now quick!"

It was broad daylight, but we seemed to be quite alone, and I was being forced back over a man's knee, when I was jerked up again, and the man who was holding me went backwards, while a familiar voice said—

"Hullo, boys; seem to be enjoying yourselves."

"Mr Gunson, help!" I cried, as I recognised our shipboard companion; "these men—"

"I see, my lad, steady. Ah, would you!" For a quick look had passed among the men, and they were about to make a rush, when Gimson stepped back and whipped out a revolver.

"Don't come too near, boys," he said. "I'm rather a good shot."

The men stopped short at the sight of the revolver barrel covering first one and then another. But the first man said "Come on!" with quite a snarl, drew a knife, and flung himself at Gunson.

I felt a horrible sensation run through me as I listened for the report; but instead of firing, Gunson struck up with his revolver, and the man went over sidewise, while our friend now fired over the heads of the others of the gang.

This stopped them for the moment, but as they saw that no one fell, they came on again, and one of them seized Gunson before he could fire, or before he attempted to fire, for, as he told me afterwards, he did not want to feel that he had killed a man.

In the struggle which followed I saw the pistol drop from our defender's hand, and one of the men stooped to pick it up, but Esau was too quick for him. Making quite a leap, as if playing leap-frog, he pitched with his hands right on the man's shoulders, sending him over and over, but falling himself, while I picked up the pistol and drew the trigger.

The sharp report made my ears ring, and I stood back now with the weapon presented, expecting some of the others to rush at me. But the two reports had spread the alarm, and a couple of the officials came running up, whilst our assailants took to flight, giving Gunson an opportunity to rise and shake himself.

"Hurt, my lads?" he said, as he took his pistol. "They were too many for me; I got the worst of it."

"I'm not hurt, sir; are you?" I said.

"Only a bit bruised."

"I am," grumbled Esau. "Feel as if my wrist's out of joint."

By this time a crowd had assembled, and we were very glad to get away with our protector, after a few words of explanation to the two policemen, who told us we had better mind what company we got into, nodded to one another and laughed, as if it was all a good joke, and then went their way.

"Here, come to my diggings," said Gunson, rather gruffly. "I thought I told you two to mind what you were about, and what sort of customers you would meet with out here."

"Yes," I said; "but—"

"Wait till we get to my place, and we'll sit down and talk there. Some one has been pretty foolish to let two boys like you come wandering round the world by yourselves."

In about ten minutes he stopped at so shabby looking a hotel that I half shrank from entering.

Gunson noticed it.

"Needn't be scared," he said. "Decent people. Germans;" and throwing off my hesitation, I followed him with Esau to his room, where he pointed to a chair and a stool, and seated himself upon a very homely-looking bed, taking out his revolver, and putting in two fresh cartridges.

"Nasty thing to carry," he said, "but it's as good as a big dog. It can bark loudly as well as bite. Barking did this time. Now then," he continued, as he replaced the pistol in his hip pocket, "I suppose you two know that those fellows were regular blackguards, who would have stripped you of every shilling you possessed—by fair means or foul. How was it you were with them?"

I told him all that Esau would let me say, for he was very anxious to relate the story himself.

"Oh, that was it, was it?" said Gunson. "Glad you were so sensible, but you see what this place is. It will be all right by and by, but at present it's a regular sink for all the ruffians in the States to drain into. Why don't you get out of it?"

"That's what we are trying to do—hard," I said eagerly.

"Why you can't have tried much. There are plenty of ways out. Where do you want to go?"

"To the Fraser River," I said, "and then away north to Fort Elk."

"Ah," he said, looking at us both curiously. "Fraser River, eh? That's where I'm going."

I looked at him distrustfully, and he saw it.

"Quite true, my lad," he said, smiling good-humouredly; "and I sail by a vessel which starts the day after to-morrow. What did those rascals want twenty-five and then twenty dollars a-piece for your passage money? Humph! Well, I think I can do better for you than that."

"If you would give us the name of the agent," I said.

"I'll do better—I'll take you to him, and say you are friends of mine, if you are not ashamed of such a disreputable-looking character."

"I was not ashamed to take your help just now," I said.

"No," he replied drily; "but you had no time then to examine my appearance. Where are you staying, my lads?"

I told him, and he uttered a long low whistle. "Of course I don't know what your friends are, but doesn't the money run away very fast?"

"Fast?" cried Esau; "why, I could live ten times as long on the same money in London."

"I dare say you could live twenty times as long, boy; I could. Look here; these people are decent, clean, and honest,—do as you like,— hadn't you better come here? They'll board you for half the money I'm paying—that is, they would you. I don't know about him—he's such a wolfish-looking fellow."

"Why, I don't eat any more than he does!" cried Esau.

"Don't think you do, boy, you should say. Well, what do you think of it?"

"Dunno," said Esau, rather surlily. "Seems to me as if everybody here wants to rob you. How do I know you don't?"

"Ah, to be sure, boy, how do you know? Perhaps I do. Going to plan to get you somewhere all by yourselves, and then shoot you both. I am pretty good with a revolver."

"Didn't seem like it just now."

"No, it didn't," said Gunson, coolly. "Ah, how like a boy that sounds. Do you know what shooting a man means?"

"Killing him if you fire straight," said Esau.

"Right; and hurting him, eh?"

"Of course."

"Well, look here, my lad; the man who shoots another hurts himself far more than he hurts his victim. You don't understand that. Wait till you are as old as I am, and you will. I did not want to kill either of those ruffians. It was not a question of aiming, I had only to hold the pistol down, and it would have hit one of them. Well," he continued, "shall I take you to the captain? and will you bring your things here? or will you go your own way?"

I looked at him fixedly, for everything in the man's appearance seemed to say, "Don't trust him," till his one eye lit up, and a smile began to curl his lip. Then my hand went out to him.

"Yes," I said, "you are an Englishman, and I'll trust you."

He gripped my hand hard, and then turned to Esau.

"Well," he said, "what do you say? Think I shall do you a mischief?"

"Yah! Not you," said Esau. "I'm not afraid of you. Here, let's get our things from that other place."

"Let's have the landlady in first," said Gunson, smiling; and he went to the door and called.

A pleasant-looking German woman came, and in the most broken up English I ever heard, said we could come at once, but got into a muddle over terms till Gunson joined in, and spoke to her in German, when the difficulty was at an end.

"Nice bright-looking place, and plenty of sunshine," said Gunson, as he led us down to a wharf where a schooner was being laden with barrels, while a red-nosed, copper-complexioned man looked on smoking a cigar.

"Here, skipper, two more passengers for you—friends of mine; will you have them?"

The captain looked us both over, and then nodded.

"How much?"

The captain looked at us again, and then said a certain number of dollars for the two—a price which astonished us.

"I'll say right for them," said Gunson. "They'll send their chests on board."

"There!" said our new friend, as we walked back. "That matter was soon settled. Now go and pay your bills, get your traps, and come on to me."



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

IN NEW QUARTERS.

Gunson nodded, and we parted, Esau keeping very quiet for a few minutes before speaking.

"I suppose it's all right," he said; "but if ever a chap looked like bad company, he do."

"But he seems as friendly to us as can be."

"Yes," said Esau. "But what does he want here with a pistol? Some of the people board ship was coming to keep shop, some to farm, and some to be servants. I want to know what he wants here?"

"Perhaps the same as he would in New Zealand, and at the Cape of Good Hope. I should say he's a traveller."

"What in? Yah! He don't look the sort of man people would trust with goods to sell. Traveller? Why, you see dozens of 'em in the streets off Cheapside—big, good-looking fellows, with great curly whiskers and beards. He isn't a traveller. Nobody would buy of him."

"I mean a man who goes through foreign countries."

"What for?"

"To see them."

Esau shook his head.

"I don't think he's a traveller of that sort. I say, look out."

"What is it?" I said, expecting to see a dray come along.

"That chap."

Sure enough, there was the dark, yellow-looking scoundrel watching us, and he followed at a distance till he had seen us enter the hotel where we had been staying.

We stated that we were going away, and went and packed up our few things at once, while from the corner of the window we had the satisfaction of seeing two more of our assailants come up, and remain in conversation with the first for a few minutes, after which they walked away.

"Now, if we could get off at once, Esau," I said, "they would not see us go, and when they return they might come and watch here as long as they liked."

Esau jumped at the idea, and went out to see if he could find a man to help us carry our boxes, while I paid our bill.

Before I had done he was back with Gunson, whom he had met, and told what he was after, with the result that they had returned together.

"I'm only a poor man," said our friend, with a laugh, "so I thought I might as well come and earn half a dollar. I thought too," he added, seriously, "that it would be better not to employ a stranger, who would be able to point out where you are staying, in case your acquaintances want to hunt you out to do you an ill turn."

We were only too glad of his offer, and in less than an hour we were safely in the shelter of our new resting-place; while upon Esau's going out to reconnoitre, taking a good round so as not to be seen, he returned shortly in high glee, to tell us that the three men were seated on a stack of timber, watching the hotel we had left.

"And ready for some mischief, I'll be bound," said Gunson. "These fellows work in clans, and I shall be very glad if we can get away without a crack on the head."

As we sat chatting with Gunson the rest of that day and evening, he seemed to puzzle me, for sometimes he talked quite like a steerage passenger, just as the rough-looking man he seemed should talk, while at others, words and ideas kept slipping out which made me think he must be one who had had a good education. He had travelled a great deal, as we knew, but he seemed singularly reserved about his intentions. That he was going to the Fraser River he made no secret; but though he kept us in the dark, he somehow or another, now that he was more with us, contrived to possess himself of all our projects.

He seemed at times quite changed, and his manner set me wondering why it was that, though we had passed nearly five months together on board the Albatross, seeing us every day, he had rarely spoken to us then, and we parted almost as much strangers as on the first day when we encountered each other in the dark cabin of the ship.

First one and then the other would think he had found a clue to our companion's intentions; but when we parted for the night we felt far from sure, but more curious than ever.

"So you are going hunting, are you?" he said, in the course of our conversation.

"No," I said.

"What do you call it then, a chase—wild-goose chase?"

"I don't see that it's a wild-goose chase for two lads to come to a new country to try and get on," I said.

"Not a bit, my lad, but a very worthy thing to do. I meant it was rather a wild-goose chase for this friend of yours to send you in the hope of his brother-in-law helping you. Isn't he rather an inconsistent sort of a gentleman?"

"Mr John Dempster is one of the best of men," I said warmly.

"Perhaps so; but the best of men make mistakes sometimes, and it looks like one to me for him to be taking a sick wife right across the country to this new home. Tried it before, perhaps?"

"No," I said; "Mr John was never out of England. He told me so."

"Then he will have rather a startling experience, and I wish him well through with it."

"I say, don't talk like that," said Esau, suddenly, "because my mother's there."

"Then I wish her well out of it too."

"Have you ever made the journey?" I said eagerly.

"Yes, once," said Gunson, quietly. "Once was enough."

"But Mrs John's brother told them he thought it would do his sister good."

"Well, it may. I'm not a doctor; but after what I went through I should hesitate about taking a delicate woman such a route. And you too. When you get to the Fraser, how do you mean to journey hundreds of miles up to Fort Elk?"

I was silent, for it seemed to me as if we were for the first time coming face to face with the difficulties of our task.

"Dunno," said Esau, thoughtfully. "S'pose there ain't no 'buses."

"No, nor yet cabs," said Gunson, laughing.

"Might be a stage-coach running now and then, p'r'aps."

"My good lad, there isn't even a road. Perhaps there is a trail. There is sure to be that, of course, for the Indians would go to the Fort with their pelting."

"With their what?" said Esau.

"Pelts—skins, to sell to the company's agent."

"Oh," said Esau.

"But the river," I said suddenly. "We could go up that by a boat, couldn't we?"

Gunson laughed.

"Yes, there is a river," he said; "but, like all mountain streams, boats cannot go up very far for the torrents and falls and rocks. Have you any arms?"

"Of course," said Esau.

"I mean weapons."

"No," I said.

"Humph! Perhaps better without them—at your age."

"You have," I said, as I glanced toward his hip-pocket.

Gunson nodded.

"Got a gun too?" said Esau.

"A rifle or two," replied our companion, rather reluctantly; and he rose then and left the room, as if to avoid being questioned.

"Hunting and shooting, that's what he's after," said Esau triumphantly, as soon as we were alone.

And at that moment I could not help thinking that he was right, and that we had hit upon a very satisfactory companion, for part of our journey at least, if it did not turn out that Gunson had some designs of his own.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A SERIOUS TROUBLE.

Esau took it all coolly enough. I believe he thought hard sometimes, but it was soon over; and to him the most serious things in life seemed to be making a big meal and having a good sleep.

Now for my part I could not help thinking a great deal, and worrying so much about the future that my thoughts would not let me sleep.

My thoughts generally took this form—"Suppose—" And then I used to be supposing: suppose Mrs John were taken much worse and died; suppose the party were attacked by Indians; suppose they never got across all that great stretch of country; suppose Esau and I were lost in the woods, to starve to death, or drowned in the river, and so on, and so on; till toward morning sleep would come, and I began dreaming about that long-haired dark Yankee loafer, who had got hold of me, and was banging my head against the ground, and trying to kill me, till I opened my eyes the next morning and found that it was Esau.

"I say," he cried, grinning, "don't you ever call me a sleepy-headed chap again. Why, I've been shaking you, and doing everything I could to rouse you up."

"Oh," I exclaimed, "I am so glad! I was dreaming."

"As if I didn't know. Why, you were on your back snorting, and puffing, and talking all sorts of nonsense. That's eating 'Merican pie for supper."

"I couldn't go to sleep for hours."

"Yah! that's what mother always said when she was late of a morning, and I had to light the fire. I say, wonder how they are getting on?"

"So do I. I lay thinking about them last night, hoping they wouldn't be attacked by Indians."

"I don't think an Indian would like to attack my mother again. She ain't a big woman, but she has got a temper when it's roused. Make haste; I want my breakfast."

I was not long in dressing, and on going down we found Mr Gunson waiting for us, and looking more sour, fierce, and forbidding than ever.

"Come, young sirs," he said, "you must learn to see the sun rise regularly out here in the West. Sit down, and let's have breakfast. I've a lot to do ready for starting to-morrow."

"I'm sorry I am so late," I said. "I could not sleep last night."

"Why? Let's look at you. Not ill?"

"Oh, no," I said, beginning on my breakfast to try and overtake Esau.

"No," he said, "you're not ill, or you couldn't eat like that. Why couldn't you sleep?"

"I was thinking so much of what you said about the difficulties before us. I never thought of them before."

"Oh!" he said, looking at me curiously. "Well, I'm glad of it. But don't worry yourself. The troubles will not come all at once. You can fight them one at a time, and get over them, I dare say."

"Then you think we shall be able to get up to Fort Elk somehow?"

"If you make up your minds to it, and say you will do it. That's the way. There, make a good breakfast, and then perhaps you can help me a bit. I want to finish buying a few things that one can't get up the country. By the way, you will have to leave those chests of yours up at one of the settlements."

"Leave our chests?" said Esau, staring.

"Why, you don't expect to be able to carry a great box each on your head, do you, through such a country as you'll have to travel. Never thought of that, I suppose?"

"I'm afraid I did not," I said.

"Of course you did not. Look here, while I think of it. Have you both got blankets?"

"No," I said. "I thought we need not buy them till we built a house."

"And don't you want to go to sleep till you've built a house? My good lads, a thoroughly well made thick blanket—a dark-coloured one—is a man's best friend out here. It's bed, greatcoat, seat, cushion, carpet-bag, everything. It's even food sometimes."

"Go on," cried Esau, laughing. "You can't eat your blanket."

"There was a snake at the Zoo once thought differently," said Gunson, laughing. "No, you can't eat your blanket, but you can roll yourself up warm in it sometimes when there's no food, and have a good sleep. Qui dort dine, the French folk say."

"But do you mean to say that up there we shan't get anything to eat sometimes?" cried Esau, who looked aghast.

"Yes, often. A man who wants to get on in a new country must not think of eating and drinking. Why, I went three days once with nothing but a drop of water now and then, and a bit of stick to chew, so as to keep my mouth moist."

I burst out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, and Gunson looked annoyed.

"It's no joke, young fellow," he said; "and I'm not romancing."

"No, no, no," I panted out; "not—laughing—at you. Look—look!"

I pointed at Esau, and Mr Gunson's face relaxed into a smile, and then he too laughed heartily at the comical, horror-stricken countenance before us.

"What are you laughing at?" cried Esau. "I say, though, do you mean it? Shall we have to go without sometimes like that?"

"Of course you will."

"I say, Mr Gordon," said Esau, in despondent tones, "hadn't we better go back?"

"Go back?—no!" I cried. "It will not be very pleasant, but we can eat all the more afterwards."

Esau brightened up.

"Yes," he said. "I didn't think of that."

"You neither of you seem to have thought anything about what's before you, my lads."

"Then you think we have done very foolishly in coming?" I said.

"Not I. You have done wisely; and if you make up your minds to take everything as it comes, I have no doubt that you will grow up into well-to-do hearty men. There, now, let's talk business. I'll go with you and see that you are not cheated while you buy yourselves a blanket apiece. Have you knives?"

"Yes," I said; and we each produced one.

"Ah, well, you can keep those in your pockets to pick your teeth with when you do get anything to eat. You must buy yourselves each a good strong case-knife, big enough to chop wood or skin an animal, and to use for your food."

"Anything else, sir?"

"There are other things you'll want, but you can wait till you join your friend up at Fort Elk. I dare say he will be able to supply you out of his store."

"But he does not keep a store," I ventured to observe. "He is the head man over one of the Hudson's Bay Company's depots."

"Exactly. Then he keeps a store. You don't suppose he gives the Indians dollars for the skins they bring in, do you? He keeps a store of blankets and cutlery, and all kinds of useful things for barter with the people. Blankets up yonder are like bank-notes. Well, what are you looking at?"

"I was wishing I knew as much about the place as you do."

"Have patience," he said, laughing, "and I dare say you'll know a good deal more."

We went out soon after breakfast, and I had my first lesson in frontier life in watching Gunson make his purchases after he had helped us make ours; and the rest of the day was occupied in overhauling our chests, and repacking them with things our new friend assured us that we should not want, while he pointed out to us those we did, and showed us how to make a light package of them that we could easily carry.

Twice over that day I caught sight of the man I wanted to avoid, but fortunately he did not see us, and at last night came, and we sat down to our supper with our chests on board the schooner, and nothing to do the next morning but walk on board.

I slept well that night, and we were down in good time, Mr Gunson nodding his approval, and after breakfast he said—

"Look here, my lads, I've seen those roughs hanging about as if they meant mischief. Of course we could get the protection of the law, but that might mean detaining us, and as the schooner sails at noon, we don't want any complications of that sort."

"Of course not," I said.

"So my advice is, that you stop here quietly till nearly the time, and then we'll go on board, though I dare say it will be evening before we really start."

I agreed at once, but Esau looked disappointed.

"Well, what is it?" said Gunson.

"I did want to go back to that store and buy something else before we started."

"Money burning your pocket?"

"No, it aren't that," said Esau, turning a little red.

"Well, you are your own master, my lad. Go and buy what you want, and make haste back."

Esau brightened up, and I rose to go with him.

"No, no; I don't want you to come," said Esau. "You stop with Mr Gunson. I shan't be long."

It struck me that this was rather curious on my companion's part, but I said nothing, only sat and looked out at the lovely bay, while Gunson busied himself with writing a letter.

"There," he said, when he had done; "want to write too?"

I shook my head.

"Better," he said. "Mayn't have another chance to write home for mouths."

"I have no home," I said sadly, "and no one to whom I could write."

He clapped me on the shoulder, and looked down at me searchingly as I thought.

"Never mind, lad; you are going to make a home and friends too. Some day you may have more friends to write to than you want."

I walked away to the window, to stand looking out at the shipping, wondering how long Esau would be, and what the article was that had taken his fancy, till all of a sudden the idea came to me that it must be a revolver.

"Do you know what your young mate has gone to buy?" said Mr Gunson just then, but I avowed my ignorance. "I hope he will not be very long, because we may as well be getting on board and settling down. Our chests are all right. The captain told me that they were right down in the hold, and well above the chance of getting any bilge water upon them."

He went to the window I had just left.

"Looks like fine weather," he said, "with perhaps a little wind. You must try and be a better sailor this time."

The last look round was given, the bill paid, and as we waited, I congratulated myself upon the fact that we were going to escape without another encounter with the loafers, for I felt sure they had been watching for us, so as to pick a quarrel. But the time glided on, and Esau did not return.

Gunson got up and went to the door twice, coming back each time with a very severe look on his countenance, as I saw at a glance, for I avoided his eyes, feeling, as I did, unwilling to meet some angry outburst, and hoping every moment to have an end put to a very unpleasant state of affairs.

Over and over again I started at some impatient movement on the part of Gunson; but he did not speak, contenting himself with walking impatiently up and down like some animal in a cage.

"Have you no idea what Dean has gone to buy?" he said at last.

"Not the least, unless he has fancied that he would like a revolver."

"Absurd!" cried Gunson; and there was another pause, during which I listened to every passing step, hoping against hope that it might be Esau.

My position was growing more and more painful, and at last I could bear it no longer.

"What is it? What are you going to do?" said Gunson, as I suddenly jumped up.

"Look for Esau," I said.

"Sit still, boy. What do you know about the place, and which way will you go?"

I was obliged to say that I didn't know, but I would hunt for him well.

"It is now close upon twelve o'clock," said Gunson, angrily, "and he has been gone nearly three hours. If he is coming back it must be directly, and then, with you gone, we shall miss the boat, and all our belongings will go on up north without us. Hang him, he must be mad!"

"But I would not go far without coming back," I said.

"I think, my lad, you may save yourself the trouble."

"What do you mean? He will be back here directly?"

"No. I'm afraid," said Gunson, bitterly, "that we have been talking too much for him lately."

"Mr Gunson?"

"We have scared him with our account of the troubles, and he has backed out."

"Backed out?" I faltered, quite horrified at the idea of being left alone.

"Yes, and gone into hiding until we have sailed."

"Oh, impossible!"

"No, my lad, quite possible. You saw how startled he was at the idea of a journey through a wild country."

"No, no, I think not," I said.

"I feel nearly sure of it. He had no real reason for going out this morning, and his excuses to get away were as slippery as could be. Depend upon it we shall not see him again—at least, I shall not, for of course you will wait for him."

"If I thought he could play such a mean, deceitful trick I should go without him," I said hotly.

"Indeed? Well then, my lad, you had better come, for it is high time we were off."

I stared at him wildly, for what he had said seemed terribly likely. Esau had been startled on hearing the real difficulties and dangers that we had to go through, and much as he seemed to like me, he might have been overcome by his thoughts, and at the last moment felt that he must turn tail.

"Well?" said Gunson, "what do you say? Will you come? I must be off almost directly."

"Yes," I said, "you must go, but I'm sure Esau is in some trouble. He could not be such a coward as that."

"Then you will not go with me?"

"I would if I could think as you do," I said; "but I'm sure he would not forsake me."

"Human nature, boy."

"It isn't his human nature," I said boldly. "If he had wanted to back out he would have confided in me, and wanted me to go with him till you had sailed."

"I have no time to argue," said Gunson sternly. "What are you going to do?"

"I must try and find my companion."

"But your chests?—they will be taken on to Esquimalt."

"We should have to go up and claim them afterwards."

"You believe, then, that he is staunch?"

"I am sure of it, sir."

"Well, then, good-bye, my lad. I'll speak to the captain about your chests, and have them left with the agents of the ship, but you will have to give up your passage-money. There will be no getting that back."

"I'm afraid not," I said gloomily.

"Yes, they may sail at any time," said Gunson, impatiently. "Better go with me, boy."

"No," I said.

"You are giving up your passage and your chances for the sake of a fellow not worth his salt."

"You don't know him as I do," I replied. "I will not believe it of him."

"Well, if he is not staunch you are, at all events, my lad. Good-bye. If he does come back run down to the wharf at once, the schooner may not have sailed."

"He has got into some trouble, I'm sure," I cried.

"Good-bye."

"Good-bye," I said, holding out my hand; but my lips quivered, for I was horribly disappointed.

"Once more," cried Mr Gunson, as he gripped my hand hard, "I tell you he is playing you false. You had better come."

"No."

"You are not afraid, are you?"

I flung his hand away.

"No," he said, smiling, "not a bit. There, Mayne, my lad, he has thrown you over, but I can't. If you stay, I'll stay too."

"Mr Gunson!" I cried.

"Yes, my lad, and we'll see if he comes back."

"He will if he can, I'm sure," I cried. "Well, we shall see."

"I am sure he has got into some trouble; I am certain of it. Ah, here he is!"

For the door opened at that moment, but it was not Esau, only the landlady, who in broken German-English, told us that a message had arrived from the captain to say we were to go on board.

"Thank you. Gut!" said Gunson, laconically. And then, as the woman left the room, he continued, "Well, I'll take your view of it, my lad. We'll say he has got into some trouble and cannot get back."

"Yes; I'm sure of it," I cried. "Very well, then, we must get him out of it. Of course it is no use for us to waste time by going from house to house. I'll go and see the chief man in the police, and see if they can find him for us."

"Yes," I said, eagerly; "come on."

"No, no, you stay. He may, as you say, return, and you must be here to meet him, or he may go off again, and matters be worse."

"He'd go to the schooner then."

"If the schooner had not sailed. You stop, and I hope he will turn up hero."

Anxious as I was to go in search of Esau, I was obliged to obey, and I was directly after left to myself to pass quite a couple of hours before Gunson came back.

"No news yet," he said; "the police are trying what they can do, but if he is in hiding they are not likely to succeed."

"Then he is not in prison?"

"Oh, no; as far as I can hear, nothing has been seen of him."

"I thought he might have got in some trouble, and been arrested. Then those men must be at the bottom of it, Mr Gunson."

"Yes, I thought so, but what could I do? I told one of the chiefs of the police that I was afraid he had been attacked, and the man looked serious, and said 'Very likely.' Then he asked me to describe the men, and I did."

"Well?" I said eagerly.

"He told me that my description was like that of hundreds of scoundrels about the place."

"Let's go and see if we can meet them anywhere about," I said. "They were watching our hotel yesterday where we stayed."

"Yes, I know," said Gunson, thoughtfully. "It hardly seems likely. I don't know, though, there are always men hanging about ports ready to do anything for the sake of a few shillings, all the world over."

I felt a shiver run through me at his words, as my busy brain began to suggest endless horrors that might have befallen poor Esau; and as I followed Gunson out into the road, these thoughts grew and grew till I found myself telling poor little Mrs Dean about the loss of her son, and hearing her reproaches as she told me that it was all my fault, and that if it had not been for me Esau would have stayed at home.

We went along the road, and down to the wharves, and to and fro about the hotel where we had been staying, and there was no sign of either of the men who had assailed us. There were, as the police had said, plenty of a similar class, many of whom resembled them somewhat in appearance; but our search was entirely in vain, while towards evening, as we came out once more where we had a full view of the beautiful bay, I saw something which made me start, and, full of misery and self-reproach, I stopped and looked up at Gunson.

"Yes," he said, frowning heavily, "I see. There she goes, and with a good wind too. Nice clean-sailing little vessel. We ought to have been on board."

For there, a mile now from the shore, with her sails set, and looking half-transparent in the light of the setting sun, was the graceful-looking schooner, which I felt must be ours, heeling over gently, and taking with her our few belongings.

"Pretty good waste of time as well as money, Gordon, my lad," said my strange-looking companion, harshly. "But there, it is of no use to cry over spilt milk. You could not go off and leave your mate in this way, and I, as an Englishman, could not leave a fellow-countryman—I mean boy—in trouble."

I tried to thank him, but suitable words would not come, and he clapped me on the shoulder in a friendly way.

"There," he said, "come back to our friend the Frau. You are faint and hungry, and so am I. She shall give us a good square meal, as they call it out here, and then we shall be rested, and better able to think."

I was faint, certainly, but the idea of eating anything seemed to make me feel heart-sick; but I said nothing, only followed my companion back to the little hotel, feeling as if this was after all only some bad, confused dream.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

WHERE ESAU HAD BEEN.

"We are forgetting one thing," said Gunson, as we drew near our resting-place; and I believe now he said it to try and cheer me on. "Perhaps while we have been away the truant may have returned."

His words had the required effect, for I hurried on by Gunson's side, and was the first to enter and ask the landlady if Esau had been back.

"Nein! nein! nein!" she cried. "Bood der Herr captain send doo dimes for you bode, and say he go doo sea mit dout you, and die schip ist gone. Ya."

"Yes, gone," said Gunson; "and we have come back. Give us some tea and dinner together."

"Zo," cried the landlady. "Ach you are sehr hungrig."

She hurried away nodding her head, and we heard her shrill voice giving orders directly, while Gunson began to try and cheer me up.

"It's very kind of you," I said; "but what shall we do?"

"Wait patiently, my lad. There, don't mind about me, perhaps it's all for the best; the schooner may get into a bad storm, and we shall be better ashore, perhaps save our lives, who knows. There, lie down on that bench, and try and have a nap."

But I couldn't close my eyes for thinking of poor Esau. Perhaps he was dead; perhaps even then he was shut up somewhere by a gang of scoundrels who might be meaning to keep him till they could secure a ransom.

Ah, what a host of thoughts of that kind came rushing through my weary head, which now began to ache terribly.

In due time the landlady came in, bringing us our meal; and, signing me to take my place, Gunson seated himself and began to eat, not like a man who partakes of food for the pleasure of the meal, but as if it was a necessity to supply himself with the support required for doing a great deal of work. And I suppose it was in something like that spirit that, after he had first requested me to eat, and then ordered me sharply, I managed to force a little down.

It was getting quite dark, when Gunson said suddenly—

"Now is there anything else we could do—anything we have not thought of?"

"The hospital," I said suddenly, as the idea came like a flash of light.

"I did not say anything to you, my lad," replied Gunson, "but that was the first place I went to, thinking he might have been knocked down. No: try again."

But no, I could think of nothing else, and my despondency was rapidly increasing, when all at once Gunson jumped up and said sharply—

"It's too bad to destroy your belief, my lad, but I feel sure that mate of yours is playing you a dirty trick. He is a miserable coward, and hiding away. The lad has turned tail and—I'm a fool."

For at that moment, panting and exhausted with running, Esau rushed into the room, with nothing on but his shirt and trousers, and the former torn halfway across his back.

"Esau!" I shouted, joyfully.

"Then—you're—not gone," he panted hoarsely; and turning from me, he threw himself into a chair at the table and began to eat ravenously.

"You young scoundrel! where have you been?" cried Gunson, angrily.

"Tell you presently," said Esau, with his mouth full. "Go and fetch the police."

"Police! no," cried Gunson, excitedly. "Here, do as I do," he continued; and taking out his handkerchief, he hastily made a bundle of the meat, butter, and bread we had left.

"No, no," cried Esau, "I'm so hungry."

"Eat as we go."

"Where?" I cried.

"Boat. We may catch the schooner after all."

"No, no," cried Esau; "fetch the police. They've got my clothes, money, everything. I'll show you where."

"And I'll show you where," cried Gunson, "if you don't come along."

"But I can't go like this," cried Esau.

"Can't you," said Gunson, fiercely. "Here, hi! Frau!"

The landlady came running in, and began to exclaim on seeing Esau's state; but she was silenced directly by Gunson, who thrust a couple of dollars into her hands, and between us we hurried Esau out into the road.

"But I can't—my—"

"Come along!" cried Gunson, fiercely.

"And they'll be after me directly," panted Esau. "Said I shouldn't go till I'd paid a hundred dollars."

"They had better come for them," muttered Gunson between his teeth; and after that Esau suffered himself to be hurried along, consoling himself with a few bites at the piece of bread he held, as we ran on to where in the soft moonlight we could see several good-sized fishing-boats lying, with men idling near them on the shore.

"Now then," cried Gunson, quickly; "we want to be put aboard the schooner that sailed this evening. Three dollars. There she is, two miles out."

No one answered.

"Four dollars!" shouted Gunson. "There's a good light wind, and you can soon reach her."

Still no one stirred, the men staring at us in a dull, apathetic way.

"Five dollars," cried Gunson, angrily.

"Say, stranger," said one of the men, "what's your hurry? stole suthin'?"

"No," I shouted; "but it's as if they have. Our chests are aboard, and we've paid our passage."

"Come on then," said one of the men, rousing himself. "I'll take you for five dollars. Jump in."

He led the way to a little skiff, two more of his companions following him, and they rowed us out to one of the fishing-boats, made fast the one we had come in with the painter, cast off the buoy-rope, and began to hoist a sail, with the result that a soft pattering sound began under the boat's bows, and she careened over and began to glide softly away, the man who had gone to the rudder guiding her safely through the vessels lying by the buoy near the shore.

"There," cried Gunson, taking off the pea-jacket he wore, and throwing it to Esau. "Put that on, my lad; and here, eat away if you're hungry. You shall tell us afterwards where you've been."

"But they've got my money," said Esau, in an ill-used tone.

"Then we must share with you, and set you up. Think we shall catch the schooner, skipper?"

"Guess we shall if this wind holds. If it changes she'll be off out to sea, and we shall lose her. Guess you'll pay your five dollars all the same?"

"Look here," said Gunson, roughly. "You've got an Englishman to deal with."

"Oh, yes; guess I see that; but you send some ugly customers out here sometimes, stranger. Not good enough for yew to keep at home."

Gunson made no answer, but sat watching the vessel, which, as it lay far out in the soft moonlight, looked faint, shadowy, and unreal.

Every now and then a good puff of wind filled our sail, so that the boat rushed through the water, and our hopes rose high, far we felt that in less than an hour we should be alongside our goal; but soon after Gunson would utter an impatient ejaculation, for the wind that sent us surging through the beautiful waters of the bay, sent the schooner along rapidly too, so that she grew more faint.

Once or twice I glanced back at the shore, to see how beautiful the town looked with its lights rising above lights, and all softened and subdued in the clear moonlight; but I was soon looking ahead again, for our chase was too exciting for me to take much interest in a view.

Every now and then the boat tacked, and we went skimming along with her gunwale close down to the water, when we were all called upon to shift our position, the boatman evidently doing his best to overtake the schooner, which kept seeming nearer and then farther off in the most tantalising way.

"Guess I didn't ask you enough, skipper," said the boatman. "This is going to be a long job, and I don't think we shall dew it now."

"Do your best, man," said Gunson quietly. "I must overtake the schooner if it is possible."

All at once the wind dropped, the sail shivered and flapped, and we lay almost without motion, but to our annoyance we could just make out the schooner with her sails well filled, gliding steadily away.

The master of the boat laughed.

"Wait a bit," he said. "She won't go on like that long. P'r'aps we shall have the wind next and she be nowhere."

Gunson glanced at the oars, but feeling that if we were to overtake the vessel it must be by means of the sails, he said nothing, but sat watching by me till we saw the schooner's sails die away.

"Gone?" I whispered.

"No; she has changed her course a little and is stern on to us. There, you can see her again."

To my great delight I saw that it was so, the schooner having now turned, and she grew plainer and plainer in our sight as the moon shone full now on the other side of her sails, and we saw that she too was becalmed. Then in a few minutes our own sails filled, and we went gliding on over the glistening sea, which flashed like silver as we looked back.

I uttered a sigh full of relief, for the schooner still lay becalmed, while we were now rushing through the water.

"Well, my lad," said Gunson suddenly, "we thought we had lost you. How was it? One of us thought you had turned tail, and slipped away."

"That wasn't Mr Gordon, I know," said Esau. "I ain't the slipping away sort. Those chaps got hold of me again, and I don't like going away like this without setting the police at them."

"You are best away, my lad," said Gunson.

"I don't know so much about that," cried Esau. "They've got all my money, and my knife and coat, and that new pipe."

"What new pipe?" I said sharply. "You don't smoke."

"Nobody said I did," replied Esau, gruffly. "Fellow isn't obliged to smoke because he's got a pipe in his pocket, is he?"

"No, but you had no pipe in your pockets this morning, because you turned them all out before me."

"Well, then, I'd got one since if you must know."

"Why, you did not go away to buy a pipe, did you?" I said.

"Why, there wouldn't ha' been any harm in it if I had, would there?" he said surlily, as he held one hand over the side to let the water foam through his fingers.

"Then you gave us all this trouble and anxiety," I cried angrily, "and have made us perhaps ruin our passage, because you wanted to learn to smoke."

"I didn't know it was going to give all this trouble," he said, in a grumbling tone.

"But you see it has."

"Well, I've got it worse than you have, haven't I? Lost everything I've got except what's in my chest."

"And it begins to look as if you've lost that too, my lad," said Gunson bitterly. "You'd better have waited a bit before you began to learn to smoke. There goes your chest and your passage money."

"Yes, and ours," I said, as Gunson pointed to where the schooner's sails were once more full, and she was gliding away. "Is it any use to shout and hail them?"

"Stretch your breathing tackle a bit, my lad," said the master. "Do you good p'r'aps."

"But wouldn't they hear us?"

"No; and if they did they wouldn't stop," said the master; and we all sat silent and gloomy, till the injury Esau had inflicted upon us through that pipe came uppermost again.

"Serves you well right, Esau," I said to him in a low voice. "You deserve to lose your things for sneaking off like that to buy a pipe. You—pish—want to learn to smoke!"

I said this with so much contempt in my tones that my words seemed to sting him.

"Didn't want to learn to smoke," he grumbled.

"Yes, you did. Don't make worse of it by telling a lie."

"Who's telling a lie?" he cried aloud. "Tell you I wasn't going to smoke it myself."

"Then why did you go for it?"

"Never you mind," he said sulkily, "Pipe's gone—half-dollar pipe in a case—nobody won't smoke it now, p'r'aps. Wish I hadn't come."

"So do I now," I said hotly. "You did buy it to learn to smoke, and we've lost our passage through you."

Esau was silent for a few moments, and then he came towards me and whispered—

"Don't say that, sir. I saw what a shabby old clay pipe Mr Gunson had got, and I thought a good noo clean briar-root one would be a nice present for him, and I ran off to get it, and bought a big strong one as wouldn't break. And then, as I was out, I thought I'd look in at some of the stores, and see if there wasn't something that would do for you."

"And you went off to buy me a pipe, my lad?" said Gunson, who had heard every word.

"Didn't know you was listening," said Esau, awkwardly.

"I could not help hearing. You were excited and spoke louder than you thought. Thank you, my lad, though I haven't got the pipe. Well, how did you get on then?"

"That's what I hardly know, sir. I s'pose those chaps we had the tussle with had seen me, and I was going stoopidly along after I'd bought your pipe—and it was such a good one—staring in at the windows thinking of what I could buy for him, for there don't seem to be anything you can buy for a boy or a young fellow but a knife, and he'd got two already, when in one of the narrow streets, Shove! bang!"

"What?" I said.

"Shove! bang! Some one seemed to jump right on me, and drove me up against a door—bang, and I was knocked into a passage. 'Course I turned sharply to hit out, but five or six fellows had rushed in after me, and they shoved me along that passage and out into a yard, and then through another door, and before I knew where I was they'd got me down and were sitting on me."

"But didn't you holler out, or cry for help?"

"He says didn't I holler out, or shout for help! I should just think I did; but before I'd opened my mouth more than twice they'd stuffed some dirty old rag in,—I believe it was some one's pocket-hankychy,—and then they tied another over it and behind my head to keep it in, right over my nose too, and there I was."