secure, he climbed slowly up to the main-yard arm, and looked round upon the sea. 

 

 

 CHAPTER IX 

 SHADOWS IN THE MOONLIGHT 

 “Daddy’s a long time coming,” said Dick all of a sudden. 

 They were seated on the baulks of timber that cumbered the deck of the brig on either side of the caboose. An ideal perch. The sun was setting over Australia way, in a sea that seemed like a sea of boiling gold. Some mystery of mirage caused the water to heave and tremble as if troubled by fervent heat. 

 “Ay, is he,” said Mr Button; “but it’s better late than never. Now don’t be thinkin’ of him, for that won’t bring him. Look at the sun goin’ into the wather, and don’t be spakin’ a word, now, but listen and you’ll hear it hiss.” 

 The children gazed and listened, Paddy also. All three were mute as the great blazing shield touched the water that leapt to meet it. 

 You could hear the water hiss—if you had imagination enough. Once having touched the water, the sun went down behind it, as swiftly as a man in a hurry going down a ladder. As he vanished a ghostly and golden twilight spread over the sea, a light exquisite but immensely forlorn. Then the sea became a violet shadow, the west darkened as if to a closing door, and the stars rushed over the sky. 

 “Mr Button,” said Emmeline, nodding towards the sun as he vanished, “where’s over there?” 

 “The west,” replied he, staring at the sunset. “Chainy and Injee and all away beyant.” 

 “Where’s the sun gone to now, Paddy?” asked Dick. 

 “He’s gone chasin’ the moon, an’ she’s skedadlin’ wid her dress brailed up for all she’s worth; she’ll be along up in a minit. He’s always afther her, but he’s never caught her yet.” 

 “What would he do to her if he caught her?” asked Emmeline. 

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