What a variety of appropriate aphorisms there are to express the great truths of human experience! “There is many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip” is one of them. Undoubtedly there is. So is there “many a miss of a sweet little kiss.” “The course of true love,” also, “never did run smooth.” Certainly not. Why should it? If it did we should doubt whether the love were true. Our own private belief is that the course of true love is always uncommonly rough, but collective human wisdom has seen fit to put the idea in the negative form. So let it stand.

 

Ruby had occasion to reflect on these things that day, but the reflection afforded him no comfort whatever.

 

The cause of his inconsolable state of mind is easily explained.

 

The boat had proceeded about halfway to Arbroath when they heard the sound of oars, and in a few seconds a ship’s gig rowed out of the fog towards them. Instead of passing them the gig was steered straight for the boat, and Ruby saw that it was full of men-of-war’s men.

 

He sprang up at once and seized an oar.

 

“Out oars!” he cried. “Boys, if ever you pulled hard in your lives, do so now. It’s the press-gang!”

 

Before those few words were uttered the two men had seized the oars, for they knew well what the press-gang meant, and all three pulled with such vigour that the boat shot over the smooth sea with double speed. But they had no chance in a heavy fishing boat against the picked crew of the light gig. If the wind had been a little stronger they might have escaped, but the wind had decreased, and the small boat overhauled them yard by yard.

 

Seeing that they had no chance, Ruby said, between his set teeth:

 

“Will ye fight, boys?”

 

“I will,” cried Davy Spink sternly, for Davy had a wife and little daughter on shore, who depended entirely on his exertions for their livelihood, so he had a strong objection to go and fight in the wars of his country.

 

“What’s the use?” muttered Big Swankie, with a savage scowl. He, too, had a strong disinclination to serve in the Royal Navy, being a lazy man, and not overburdened with courage. “They’ve got eight men of a crew, wi’ pistols an’ cutlashes.”

 

“Well, it’s all up with us,” cried Ruby, in a tone of sulky anger, as he tossed his oar overboard, and, folding his arms on his breast, sat sternly eyeing the gig as it approached.

 

Suddenly a beam of hope shot into his heart. A few words will explain the cause thereof.

分享到：