"Heigho! the blow fell; I determined not to return, and, Archie, from that day to this I have been a wanderer. "But bless Providence for all His mercies! Archie, lad, I'm not badly off, and I have you. "Shake hands, old boy. Now I've been doing all the talking, I shall take it out of you next, for I dearly love to hear your voice. "Senor Gasco, _mon ami_, suppose we launch our little boat, and be off. I'm longing for supper and longing to sit down and rest in our mountain cottage. I don't think I've been so happy for many and many a long year. "Come along, Archie. How lovely the moonlight is playing over the water!" CHAPTER FOURTEEN. FRIDAY NIGHT AT SEA. "Now round the galley fire the merry crew, With song and yarn and best of cheer, Have gathered. And storms may rage, and seas may rise, And thunders roll; they know not fear." Anon. Scene: A ship at sea, south of the Cape of Good Hope. A steamer evidently from her build, though the funnel has been lowered, and a gale of wind is roaring through her rigging, bellying out the few sails she is able to carry till it looks as though the cloth would bust. She is making heavy weather, dipping the ends of her long yards right into the water, and plunging so much, that at times neither her jib-boom nor bows are visible in the foam and spray. She must be shipping tons of water. Looking at her as we are now doing with the eye of imagination, it would seem there could be little else save discomfort on board of her. And the night, too, is closing around her dark and thick. The sea is very troubled, the waves are racing, brawling, foam-crested billows, lightning plays around the ship every now and then, and thunders hurtle in the air, the awful noise appearing to run along over the sea. But let us go on board of her. Here are Kenneth and Archie. Neither is on duty. Kenneth's watch will come on deck at midnight. Archie, who is engineer of this craft, may be called upon at any moment to stir up the banked fires and get up steam. This is the ship in which Kenneth has been second mate for eighteen months, including the time he lay sick or roamed convalescent on the South American shore, where Archie found him. They have bidden farewell to that beautiful coast, which in some parts is so enchanting, with its wealth of vegetation, its grand old woods, its fruit trees, its flower-trees, its flowers themselves, the life and loveliness that teems everywhere on the earth, in the air, in the sea, on the little islands, green and feathery, that peep up here and there out of the blue, on mountain top, and even in its caves, that I feel sad as well as sorrowful. I cannot pause to describe it all.