At the sound of our bows grating on her side one of her crew ran aft and looked over. He had a strange foreign appearance in his red cap, and curls, and white teeth, and looked like some startled animal about to spring on us. But his honour shouted something in French, and the man scrambled over the side of the cutter with a grin and jumped lightly into our boat, talking rapidly all the while. I do not think Mr Gorman understood all he said, for he presently ordered the man to hold his peace, and stepped ashore, beckoning me to follow him. I obeyed after making fast the painter. As we scrambled up the rocks and reached the road which leads down from Kilgorman to the shore, I was surprised to see several carts standing laden with sacks or straw, as though on the way to market. Still more surprised was I when among the knot of men, half-foreign sailors, half countrymen, who stood about, sheltering as best they could from the sleet (for the weather was coming in yet worse from the west), I recognised my father. If he noticed me at first he made no sign of it, but walked up to Maurice Gorman with a rough nod. "Is all landed and stowed?" said his honour, repeating the question of last night. "'Tis," said my father shortly, nodding in the direction of the carts. "How many are in the house?" "There's two hundred." "Father," said I, breaking in at this point, in spite of all the Gormans of Donegal, "you're needed at home. Mother's dying, and sent me for his honour to speak to her." My father started, and his sunburnt cheeks paled a little as he looked at Mr Gorman and then across the lough. He would fain have flown that moment to the beat, but I could see he was too far under his honour's thumb to do so without leave. "We cannot spare you, Mike, till the job is finished. We must get the carts to Derry before night." "I'm thinking," said my father, "Barry here knows the road to Derry as well as me. Who'll be minding a young boy on a cart of turnips?" His honour mused a moment, and then nodded. "Can you get the cutter away in this wind?" asked he. "I could get her away as easy as I got her in," said my father; "but she's well enough as she is for a day or two, by your honour's leave." "Father," said I, all excitement, "sure it wasn't you ran the cutter into the lough round Fanad yesterday? I knew nobody else could have done it!" My father grinned at the compliment. "That's the boy knows one end of a ship from the other," said he. Mr Gorman looked at me, and a thought seemed to strike him. "Come here!" said he, beckoning me to him. Once again he looked hard in my face, and I looked hard back. "So you are Barry?" he demanded. "I am," said I. "And you'd like to be a sailor?" "No," I retorted. It was a lie, but I would be under no favour to his honour. His honour grunted, and talked in a low voice to my father, who presently said to me,--