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"Oo, ay! just so!" said the doctor, retreating a few paces from Fred, and eying him as one might a half-tamed tiger; "she said that ony time this afternoon that wad be conveniant, she wad be maist happy to see ye in the kabbin below. That's a'."

And the little doctor went off muttering "Gude purtect us! wha wad think sic a douce young laddie as that was nae richt aboot the upper warks? Weel, weel, Laird save us!"

"An interview!" exclaimed Gus, with delight, "by Jove! Fred, you are in luck. I can forsee it all—private interview—lady all blushes and gratitude—gentleman all admiration and compliments—see each other every day while on board—grow as thick as pickpockets—moonlight interview—gentleman grows tender—lady refers him to papa—papa informs him she's not his daughter at all, but a princess in disguise, with large estates in a land yet undiscovered—matrimony—champagne, ice-creams, wax-lights, roses, pretty girl's kisses—bride an angel without wings—bridegroom in the seventh heaven—whew! there's the whole thing in a nut-shell. A novel condensed."