"Never mind, Thora," I said. "Come along wi' me. I'll get my father's dinghy, and we three will go for a fine sail." I rowed them out beyond the Holms, for it was a bright calm day; and when we got out into the breezy bay the mast was stepped, the little lug sail hoisted, and then we went speeding over to Graemsay island like a sheer water skimming the waves. Graemsay was our imagined El Dorado, and on the voyage we fancied ourselves encountering many surprising adventures. Shipwrecks and sea fights were by no means uncommon events. We threw spars of wood over the stern, and at the cry of "Man overboard!" the ship was put about to pick him up. But while we easily overcame these imagined disasters, there were some real dangers to encounter, and in the midst of our merry talk and laughter we had ever to keep a careful watch on the conduct of the boat, and to look out for the safest channels and the sunken rocks. Hilda, who regarded the approach of an imagined iceberg with complacency, became really timid when she noticed a heavy squall coming towards us from the outer sea; and until the sail had been lowered, and our bow hove round to meet the breeze and let it pass, I believe she was not quite confident that I was able to manage the boat in safety. Thora had often referred to this pleasant sail, and the few primroses I had gathered for her on the banks of a rivulet running down one of the Graemsay glens she had worn at her neck for many days. Many a time when, from our place in the class, she had seen through the window the red-sailed fishing boats battling with the sudden gusts of wind in the rapid currents of the Sound, she would look as though she would remind me of the way we had managed the dinghy in the same dangerous flow. Thus did she begin to trust me, as mariners trusted my father. If it had not been that during the lessons, in common with his pupils, Andrew Drever took a secret pleasure in looking through the little window across Stromness harbour, and, from his position at the desk, watching the movements of the shipping, it is probable he would have erected some curtain there. The window offered a distraction to us all, for it often took our attention from our tasks, and caused many interruptions in the course of the day. But, as I have indicated, Andrew was not a severe taskmaster, and that, perhaps, was one reason of our affection for him. This morning his glances were divided between the empty bird cage at the door and the barque now making ready for sea. His poor jackdaw with its chattering--a sound once so monotonous and wearying, now most earnestly wished for--was gone, but the murderer of his pet, the brutal Baudrons, was now closely stowed away under the main hatches of the Lydia, and the dominie had his revenge.