He tottered a few steps, and held out his hand.

Uncle William chuckled. "I reckoned you'd want a lift." He placed a
strong hand under the young man's arm. They paced back and forth the
length of the deck. "Feel good?" asked Uncle William.

The young man nodded. "I shall go alone to-morrow."

"Yes, I reckon you will," soothingly. "And the further north we get,
the better you'll feel. It's cur'us about the North. The' 's suthin' up
there keeps drawin' you like a needle. I've known a man to be cured jut
by turnin' and sailin' that way when he was sick. Seem 's if he stopped
pullin' against things and just let go. You look to me a little mite
tired. I'd go below for a spell if I was you."

The young man went below and slept. When he woke he felt better,
as Uncle William had predicted. At Halifax he insisted on sending a
telegram to Sergia. After that he watched the water with gleaming face,
and when they boarded the _John L. Cann_ and the shores of Arichat
shaped themselves out of space, he was like a boy.

Uncle William leaned forward, scanning the wharf. "There's Andy!" he
exclaimed.

"Where?"

"Right there. Don't you see him--dangling his legs over the edge?"

"Hallo, Andy!" The young man's voice had a joyous note.