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This had been his train of thought when Burns had opened the door

to deliver him up to the gunboat, and now it returned to him as

the stanch vessel under him winged her way across the blue

afternoon sea.

He wondered if the Albatross would pass close enough inshore for

him to get a glimpse of Mignon's tall and forbidding fog-wreathed

headlands. Just a moment of this familiar sight would be balm to

his bruised spirit. He felt that he could gather strength from

the sight of home. He had been among aliens so long!

But no nearer than just a glimpse. He made a firm resolution

never to push the prow of the Lass into Flagg Cove until he stood

clear of the charges against him. He admitted that it might take

years, but his resolution was none the less strong.

His place of confinement was on the starboard side of the

Albatross, and he was gratified after a few minutes to see the

sun pouring through his porthole.