“Away with you--be off--I have no time to parley with fellows like you. Come in here, Harry,” and he laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and led him into his room. “I’m sending a boat over to Westport; would you like to go in her?” “Wouldn’t I?” said the boy, as his eyes flashed wildly. “You are in want of clothes, and you could go to Sweeney’s and get measured for a suit.” “I do not care for the clothes; but I’d like the sail. Isn’t Tim Hennesy to go?” “Hennesy is not to go. Maher is to command the boat.” “I’d rather have Tim; but I don’t care.” “Be ready, then, in half an hour.” “I’m ready now.” “I mean, get another coat, something warmer, for you’ll be out one night at least; and put your woollen wrapper round your throat. Molly will give it to you.” “There’s thunder!” cried the boy; “I hope it won’t lull the wind. It’s blowing fiercely now.” “You’re a good swimmer, ain’t you?” “I can beat every one but Tim.” “And what would you do if you were upset?” “Hold on by the boat, or a spar.” “Till you were picked up? But if none came to pick you up?” “Hold on still, till I was near enough to swim.” “And if you didn’t get near enough?” “Go down, I suppose,” said the boy, with a laugh. “One can always do that!” Luttrell nodded, and after a moment said, “Get ready now, for here’s Maher coming for orders.” CHAPTER XVII. THE NOR’-WESTER The day--a dark and stormy one--was drawing to a close as the yawl got under weigh. She was manned by a stout crew of five hardy islanders; for although Maher had selected but three to accompany him, Tim Hennesy volunteered, and, indeed, jumped on board, as the boat sheered off, without leave asked or given. Luttrell had parted with his boy in his habitual impassive way--reminded him that he was under Tom Maher’s orders, equally on shore as on board--that he trusted to hear a good account of him on his return, and then said a cold “good-by,” and turned away. When Harry, who rarely had so long an interview with his father, left the room, he felt a sort of relief to think it was over; he had been neither punished nor scolded, even the warning that was given was very slight, and uttered in no unkindness. “Give me a kiss, Molly, and throw an old shoe after me, for luck!” cried he, gaily, as he reached the door. “We’ve got the big yawl, and though Tom has put two reefs in the mainsail, won’t I make him shake them out when we’re well out to sea!” “I’ll just go and tell the master this minit, then,” said she, eagerly, “and you’ll see what he’ll say to you.” “Will you be quiet?” said he, catching hold of her apron to detain her; “wasn’t I only joking? I’m to be under Tom’s orders, and of course I’ll obey him.”