Sandy, laughing and protesting, was pushed to the front.

Being thus suddenly forced into prominence, he suffered an acute attack of stage fright.
"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind him.
"Can't ye remember none ?" asked another.
"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come wrong end first." Some one had thrust an old guitar in his hands, and he stood nervously picking at the strings.

He might have been standing there still had not the moon come to his rescue.

It climbed slowly out of the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold over the water, across the deck, and into his eyes.

He forgot himself and the crowd.