One by one various schemes for preventing his son's projected alliance
were dismissed as impracticable. A cherished design of confining him in
an asylum for the mentally afflicted until such time as he should have
regained his senses was spoilt by the refusal of Dr. Murchison to arrange
for the necessary certificate; a refusal which was like to have been
fraught with serious consequences to that gentleman's hopes of entering
the captain's family.

Brooding over his wrongs the captain, a day or two after his daughter's
return, strolled slowly down towards the harbour. It was afternoon, and
the short winter day was already drawing towards a close. The shipping
looked cold and desolate in the greyness, but a bustle of work prevailed
on the Conqueror, which was nearly ready for sea again. The captain's
gaze wandered from his old craft to the small vessels dotted about the
harbour and finally dwelt admiringly on the lines of the whaler Seabird,
which had put in a few days before as the result of a slight collision
with a fishing-boat. She was high out of the water and beautifully
rigged. A dog ran up and down her decks barking, and a couple of squat
figures leaned over the bulwarks gazing stolidly ashore.

There was something about the vessel which took his fancy, and he stood
for some time on the edge of the quay, looking at her. In a day or two
she would sail for a voyage the length of which would depend upon her
success; a voyage which would for a long period keep all on board of her
out of the mischief which so easily happens ashore. If only Jack----

He started and stared more intently than before. He was not an
imaginative man, but he had in his mind's eye a sudden vision of his only
son waving farewells from the deck of the whaler as she emerged from the