A quiet, short man broke in here. He had sat smiling softly as the talk
went on. His face was gently humorous, and all the signs of a placid
and pure life were there. This smiling philosopher said, "That's right,
Fullerton. Ferrier's like my old mare used to be in the days when she
was a little peacocky and fiery--she always wanted to rush her journeys.
She steps soberly now. We'll teach him something before we've done with
him. You know, my dear boy, you must understand that the greater number
of these men are, well--uncultivated, do you understand. They're not so
squalid, perhaps, as Lapps or Esquimaux, but they're mostly as dense.
We've fought hard for a long time, and we're making some headway; but we
can do little, and if we could not get at our men by religion we
couldn't manage at all. I've brought you into a queer country, and you
must be prepared for a pretty set of surprises. My sister and my niece
have been out before, and I persuaded Mrs. Walton and Miss Dearsley to
take a turn. As soon as my people have got over their troubles we'll all
make a dead set at you, you audacious young materialist that you are."
Then John Blair smiled gently once more, and there was a certain pride
visible as his sad eyes twinkled on his young favourite.

This company of kind folks were all of the sort called evangelical, and
they were bound on a strange errand, the like of which had brought one
of the men out to sea many times before. The yacht was now chasing one
of the great North Sea trawling fleets, and Fullerton's idea was to let
the gallant young doctor see something of the wild work that goes on
among the fishing-boats when the weather is ugly.

The dark, solemn young lady sat very still while the men talked, and her
face had that air of intense attention which is so impressive when it is
not simulated. I think she was a spiritual relative of Joan of Arc and
Madame Roland. It seems dreadful to say so, but I am not sure that she