“Me frind, the honorable Misthur Magrew, is hard o’ hearing,” explained the Irishman in an undertone.

“Be hard o’ hearin’? then he be hard o’ payin’ too,” answered the landlord.  “He ’ave been a whole veek in my ’ouse and not one pickyunne ’ave paid.”

“Lave all to me,” said the Irishman in his conciliatory manner, gently leading the landlord to another part of the room.  “Ye see me frind, knowing his infirmity, asked mesilf to pay all bills for Misthur Magrew, and he gave me the money, I clear forgot it, or I should have paid you.”

Then Terrence drew forth a well-filled purse, which greatly mollified the landlord, and when all differences were squared, he was completely satisfied, smiling and agreeable.

Thus Fernando passed over a dangerous period in his life and never knew how near he came having his nose pulled; nor did the landlord ever know how near he came to being knocked down for such an attempt.

Morgianna had spoken on one occasion of the beauty of moonlight on the seashore, and Fernando was bold enough to ask the pleasure of rowing herself and father to the headlands some evening.  She assented.  The old sailor had a friend visiting at his house, an old ex-sea-captain like himself, and the four decided to make the voyage across the little bay and sit for an hour on the rocky promontory and listen to the “dashing waves.”  Fernando willingly welcomed the acquaintance as a fourth to the party, for he was shrewd enough to see that the old sailors would be so wholly engrossed with each other, that they would scarcely notice the young people, and Morgianna and he would be left quite to themselves.

Fernando, though an amateur at the oar, would on no account be dissuaded from rowing the small boat to the promontory; and, having helped Morgianna, who was lightest, into a seat in the bow (inexpressible happiness) he cheerfully took his seat at the oars with the old men in the stern facing each other.  Then the little craft was cast loose, and the young westerner bent to his oars and sent the boat swiftly through the water.  Of course Fernando’s back was toward Morgianna, and he could not see her, save when he twisted his head “quite off,” which he did frequently; but he could hear her silvery voice humming snatches of a song, or her dimpled hand playing in the phosphorescent water which sparkled like flashes of fire in their wake.  The old men kept up a continual talk, for which Fernando was exceedingly grateful.  Finally the promontory was gained, and in a quiet little cove Fernando beached his boat and, springing out, took the small, white hand of Morgianna and assisted her to the dry sands, so gallantly that her dainty little slippered foot did not touch the water.