While Mr. Drever got an empty meal bag and held it open, I took a
long broom handle, and, standing on a chair, forced the cat to come
down. We chased the animal about the room until we cornered him,
when, putting the meal bag over his head, we made him a secure
prisoner. Tying up the bag with a string, and cutting some
breathing holes, I carried the captive cat away, leaving Andrew
Drever to grieve over the death of Peter the jackdaw.

When I rowed out to the Lydia in my little boat, the mist had
melted away in the warmth of the sun. The gray town, with its blue
film of peat smoke slowly rising into the clear air, was reflected
upon the smooth water that lapped and lisped against the stone
piers. The bubbling track of my boat as she plunged and curtsied in
obedience to the oar strokes alone disturbed the calm surface of
the bay; but beyond the shelter of the harbour a brisk breeze
fluttered the Blue Peter at the barque's foremast, and I did not
fail to notice that it came from a favourable quarter.

Father was already aboard when my boat scraped gently along the
ship's side, and he threw a rope end down to me to climb up by.

Captain Gordon shook hands with me when I reached the quarterdeck.

"Well, my lad," said he, "how d'ye think the Lydia looks for sea?"

"She looks well and trim," I said, untying the mouth of the meal
bag; "but I notice she has a slight list to the port side."

"A list to port!" said he looking forward. "Ha! that's unlucky. I