Courage, True Hearts: Sailing in Search of Fortune

"Then it seemed to be all darkness, all night, and when I opened my eyes at last I was no longer on the little island but at sea.

"I was lying under an awning on the quarter-deck of a tiny British man-o'-war called the Pen-Gun."

"But," said Duncan, "soon after we left you we sighted and communicated with a big steamer, and as far as we could make out she started off to your rescue."

"Well, she came not near us. But as long as I live I shall never forget the unremitting kindness and attention bestowed upon us by the officers of thePen-Gun."

"And Morgan the mate?"

"Morgan has gone to England with the remainder of my crew, but after hearing from you through the captain of the bold Pen-Gun I determined to wait and wait, and had you not put in an appearance in another week's time, I was about to undertake an expedition into your charming King Goo-goo's land and effect your rescue by hook or by crook.

"That is all my little story; and now for yours."

—

It was late that night before Talbot and his boys parted, for the tale of their adventures took a much longer time to tell.

Every word of that story was of the greatest interest to the listener, but when they told him about the gold and the diamonds, and showed him their specimens, he must needs jump up from the chair and once more shake hands all round.

"Boys," he said, "you have made your fortunes. I do not mean to say that it is here, but there are more diamonds and there is more gold where these came from.

"Leave it to me, lads, but you may give yourselves the credit of being brave pioneers to a country bound, in the not far distant future, to be one of the richest and greatest in the world.

"As soon as we get back once more," he continued, "to the shores of Britain, we shall set about forming a great company, and this will speedily open up a road to your Goo-goo land, and open up the "debbil pits" also, in spite of all that wretched king shall urge against it."

"But we shall not call it Goo-goo Land," said Frank.

"No? Well, I shall leave the naming of it to you."

Then something very faint in the shape of a blush suffused the young fellow's cheeks for a moment.

"You know, Captain Talbot," he said, "my dear cousins know also how fond of little Flora I am!"

"Oh! she won't be so little by the time we get home," said Conal, laughing.

"Well, anyhow, when she grows bigger and grows a little older, she shall be my wife.

"Oh! you needn't smile; she has promised, and so after her I am going to call our newly-discovered El Dorado-Floriana."

—

We are back again in bonnie Scotland, and it was Conal himself who exclaimed, when bonnie Glenvoie, for the first time since coming home, and as he was nearing it, spread itself out before him:

"O Caledonia! stern and wild,Meet nurse for a poetic child!Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,Land of the mountain and the flood,Land of my sires! what mortal handCan e'er untie the filial bandThat knits me to thy rugged strand!"

They had driven a great part of the way to Glenvoie, but had been seen while still a long way off coming down the glen, and not only the stalwart chief himself, but Frank's father, with about half a dozen dogs, came out to meet them.

Many of the dogs were old hill-mates of Viking's, so that was all right, and a glorious gambol they had.

But just as the principal actors and most of the company crowd the stage before the curtain falls, so they do at the end of a story.

If I tell you that the reunion was a happy one, I can do but little more.

Poor to some considerable extent both Colonel Trelawney and the laird were, but I speak the honest truth when I say that had their brave boys returned penniless and hatless, they would have been sure of a hearty Highland welcome under the old roof-tree.

Yes, Flora had grown very much too, but she had also grown more beautiful-I do not like the word "pretty" – and as she bade her brothers and her cousin welcome home, the tears were quivering on her eyelids and a flush of joy suffused her face.

And soon our young fellows settled down, and all the old wild life of wandering on the hills and of sport began again. For indeed the boys needed a rest.

Little Johnnie Shingles and that droll Old Pen took up their abode in the servants' hall, but were often invited into the drawing-room of an evening, when, to the music of Frank's fiddle, the boy and Mother Pen brought down the house, so to speak, by their inimitable waltzing. This was fun to everybody else, and even to Johnnie himself. But while whirling around in the mazy dance, with his head leant lovingly on the nigger-boy's shoulder, Pen never looked more serious in his life.

A great ball was given shortly after the return of our heroes, and Glenvoie House looked very gay indeed.

While dancing that night with Flora, Frank took occasion to say to his partner, in language that was certainly more outspoken than romantic:

"Mind, Flo, you and I are going to get hitched when we're a bit older."

"Hitched, Frank?"

"Well, spliced then. You know what I mean."

"She looked down to blush, she looked up to sigh,"With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye."

I throw in these two lines of poetry just because they look pretty, and I sha'n't charge my publisher a penny for them either. But, to tell the truth-a thing I always do except when-but never mind-Flora neither blushed nor sighed.

"That means getting married, doesn't it?" she said. "Well, we'll see; but do keep step, Frank!"

And this was all the wooing.

But years have fled away since then. Five, six, nearly seven of them.

The company was started. The parchment the boys had found in the old fort gave the clue to the situation. The "debbil pits" were opened, and are, even as I write, being worked with success.

The boys are men!

Boys will be men, you know!

They are fairly wealthy, and happy also. Not that wealth makes people happy, only it helps.

Frank is spliced.

And where do you think Flora and he spent their long, long honeymoon? Yes, you are right. In Floriana, in the country of gold and diamonds. The land of the great Goo-goo.

1

The letter "z" not pronounced in Scotch.

2

Dike (Scottice), a low fence of stone or turf.

3

The Scymnus borealis, or Greenland shark, is often eighteen to twenty feet in length.

4

An egg or two beaten up with water. Used at sea when no milk is to be had.

5

The machine used for washing the "pay-dirt".

6

This is no sailor's yarn, but founded on fact.