At the same moment one of the factory girls appeared side by side with a stranger.
"Good-bye, Mr. Kinvig," said Christian.
"Good-day," Kinvig answered; and then shouting to the stranger, "this gentleman knows something of the young vagabond you want."
"So I see," answered the stranger with a cold smile, and Christian and the stranger stepped apart.
When they parted, the stranger said, "Well, one month let it be, and not a day longer." Christian nodded his head in assent, and turned toward Balladhoo. After dinner he said:
"Father, I'd like to go out to the herrings this season. It would be a change."
"Humph!" grunted his father; "which boat?"
"Well, I thought of the Ben-my-Chree; she's roomy, and, besides, she's the admiral's boat, and perhaps Kisseck wouldn't much like to hear that I'd sailed with another master."
"You'll soon tire of that amusement," mumbled Mylrea Balladhoo.
CHAPTER VII.
THE LAST OF "THE HERRINGS".
Some months later, as the season was chilling down to winter, the Ben-my-Chree, with the fleet behind her, was setting out from Peel for her last night at "the herrings." On the deck, among others, was Christian Mylrea, in blue serge and guernsey, heavy sea-boots and
