"This is a fine sight," he said. "We have reason to thank God for this great mercy, in spite of all yon sour-faced sulky fellow may say to the contrary. He may satisfy his stomach with beef and biscuit--not a morsel of this fresh fish shall rejoice the cockles of his heart." "Not so, Captain," said Flora. "Let us test the sincerity of his profession by sending him one of these fish as his share of the spoil, and see whether his practice is equal to his professions of superior sanctity." "Faith, you are right! But he will never be such a d----d hypocrite as to accept it!" "Try him." "What shall I bet that he will send it back, with a long sermon tacked to its tail?" "Don't bet; you would be sure to lose; that is, if I judge that man's physiognomy rightly. There is nothing good or benevolent in his face; and the face, after all, is the map of the mind." "Well, I'll send it, just to please you. Here, Sam Fraser, take this fish to Mr. S----, with my compliments." Sam went, and returned with a comic smile on his face. "Well, Sam, did he condescend to take the wages of our iniquity?" "Ay, Sir, and returns you his _best_ thanks. He has given Geordie Muckleroy a shilling to clean the fish for him, though it is Sunday. I think if you watch the stove, he will be cooking it himself before long." "The devil he will! Mrs. Lyndsay, you are a witch. I could have taken my oath that he would not have touched it with a pair of tongs." "Captain, you know little of human nature." "But the fellow is so religious." "So fanatical, you should say. That man never felt the sweet influences of Christianity. He deals in words--not deeds. See, here he comes! with a piece of the fresh fish to broil for his dinner. Let us go down into the cabin; the sight of us might chance to spoil his appetite."[C] [C] A fact. CHAPTER XXV. THE STORM. For several days after the fishing adventure, Flora was confined to her berth with severe indisposition, and was, indeed, so alarmingly ill, that at one time she thought that she would be consigned to the deep, as food for the fishes, on the great banks of Newfoundland. She loathed the bad water and food, and became so much reduced by sickness, that poor little Josey had to be weaned. It was a great blessing that the young, tender creature, suffered little from the privation. She ate her meals of biscuit softened in the putrid water, with an appetite that health and hunger alone can give, and looked as rosy and as happy upon the coarse diet prepared by the kind and attentive Sam Fraser, as if it had been compounded of the finest white bread and new milk. "Oh, what a blessing it is, my darling, that you continue so well!" said Flora, on the fourth morning after her baby's natural sustenance had been withdrawn. "I thought this illness would have been the death of you."