To-day six sturdy Scots took the oars, all McDonnells, who wondered much that Ludar should lie forward, leaving the fair maid and me at the helm.

As for the old nurse, whose courage revived as the opposite headlands rose up to view, she ensconced herself amidships, and crooned in her native tongue with the rowers.

We needed to row many a mile, round the island, before we could hope to hoist our sail.

Yet, I could not help marvelling at the vigour of the oarsmen, and at the speed and steadiness of our boat over the billows.
The maiden, who by her blushes when we first met that morning had confirmed Ludar's story, was content enough to sit in the stern with me, while he courted solitude in the prow.

She sat a long while silent, looking seaward, and, I think, with the self-same light in her eyes which dimmed those of Ludar.