There was no time to be lost; if any of the crew came aft we were dead men; so we tumbled down through the cabin skylight, and stowed ourselves away in the side berths.  The noise on deck soon ceased—­the cannon were again plied—­gradually the fire slackened, and we could hear that the pirate had scraped clear and escaped.  Some time after this, the lieutenant commanding the cutter came down.  We both knew him well, and he received us cordially.

In a week we were landed at Port Royal.

* * * * *

I was a midshipman when I began my log, but before I finally left the West Indies I was promoted to the rank of commander, and appointed to the Lotus Leaf, under orders for England.

Before I set sail, however, I was married to my cousin Mary in Jamaica; and when we got to Old England, where the Lotus Leaf was paid off, I settled for a time on shore, the happiest, etc., until some years afterwards, when the wee Cringles began to tumble home so fast that I had to cut and run, and once more betake myself to the salt sea.

* * * * *

SIR WALTER SCOTT

The Antiquary

Sir Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh on August 15, 1771.  As a child he was feeble and sickly, and very early he was smitten with lameness which remained with him through life, although he matured into a man of robust health.  He was educated for the law, which he began to practise in 1792.  Although he had fair success in his profession, he soon began to occupy his leisure time with literature, and his first work was published in 1796.  The first of the “Waverley” series made its appearance anonymously in 1814.  As the series progressed, it became known that Walter Scott was the author of the famous novels, and he became the idol of the hour.  In 1820 a baronetcy was bestowed upon him.  Six years later he joined an old friend in the establishment of a large printing and publishing business in Edinburgh, but the venture was not successful, and Scott soon found himself a bankrupt.  Here his manhood and proud integrity were most nobly shown.  With stern and unfaltering resolution, he set himself to the task of paying his debts from the profits of his pen.  Within a space of two years he realised for his creditors the amazing sum of nearly forty thousand pounds, but the limits of endurance had been reached, and in 1830 he was smitten down with paralysis, from which he never thoroughly rallied.  He died at Abbotsford on September 31, 1832.  As a lyrist Scott especially excelled, and as a novelist he takes rank among the foremost.  Although many of his works are lax and careless in structure, yet if a final test in greatness in the field of novel writing be the power to vitalise character, very few writers can be held to surpass Sir Walter Scott.  According to Basil Hall, “The Antiquary” was Scott’s own favourite romance.  It was