He was a tall, well-built young fellow of five-and-twenty, with a remarkably graceful figure. His hair was pale brown, with the faintest tinge of gold upon it; his eyes were grey and languid in their expression--his general appearance somewhat delicate. And yet Jack Blythe (who had been christened Vernon) was one of the merriest, most manly fellows in existence. The very fact of his proper name having been mysteriously changed to ‘Jack’ was a proof of his being a favourite with his own sex: as for the other, they, one and all, combined to spoil him. Few, seeing Jack for the first time, would have guessed his profession. He looked like a poet, but he was a sailor, and belonged to the roughest part of the profession--the Merchant Service. He had been educated, indeed, with a view to very different work; but when it was too late for him to enter the Royal Navy, he had intimated his unalterable decision to go to sea, and his mother, who was his only surviving parent, had, with many tears, consented to his wishes. But he was a good son and a good sailor, and she had never repented of letting him have his own way. As he approached his destination, he was accosted by another young man who had run half-way across the common to meet him. ‘Hullo, Jack! how are you? You’re the very man I want,’ cried the new-comer effusively. ‘What for, Reynolds? To pull an oar in a boating party, or to rig up a tent for a camping-out expedition?’ asked Blythe. ‘Better than that, old boy! I’ve bought that little yacht, the _Water Witch_, at last, and you must sail her for me. I have my party all ready, and we can start for the Island to-morrow morning.’ ‘I should very much like to join you, old man,’ said Jack, ‘but it can’t be done. I may have to go to town again to-morrow to meet an influential friend.’ ‘Hang it! You are always going up to town!’ ejaculated the other. ‘One day off can surely do you no harm.’ ‘It might, at present, Reynolds. I have stayed on shore too long already, and I find some difficulty in getting a ship. I have sent in my application for a berth on board the _Pandora_, and as I have good interest, I hope I may get it. But nothing is certain in this world, and I cannot afford to relax my energies until I am provided for. You see my twelve-month’s pay is nearly gone--that’s where the shoe pinches; so, if I lose my chance of the _Pandora_, I shall have to hunt up all the skippers and owners in the docks.’ ‘You’ll get a ship fast enough,’ grumbled Reynolds; ‘you’ve passed for chief officer. What more do you want? Come, old boy,’ he continued coaxingly, ‘say you’ll give up to-morrow to the _Water Witch_ and me--’ ‘I will, if it is possible! I can say no more,’ replied Jack Blythe. ‘Alice Leyton has promised to accompany us,’ resumed Reynolds, meaningly.