Courage, True Hearts: Sailing in Search of Fortune. Stables Gordon

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      The voyage to London was a long and tedious one, for they had to struggle for days against head-winds, and tack and half tack isn't the quickest way to a port.

      But long before they reached the mouth of the Thames, and were taken in tow by a tug-boat, the boys had cemented quite a friendship with Captain Talbot and his mate Morgan. They promised to correspond, and the honest skipper told them that he had a great project on, and that if it came to a head, he would be willing to take them both to sea with him as apprentices, if their father would let them go. This was real good news for our young heroes, and they parted from Talbot happy and hopeful.

      Morgan, the mate, put them up to the ropes as to getting to Colonel Trelawney's residence, and a good thing it was that he did so, else assuredly they would have lost themselves. A bargain was made with a cabman, and he agreed for a certain sum to drive them all the way.

      It was a damp and miserable day, the streets were inches deep in slimy mud, the houses all gray and dismal.

      No wonder that the hearts of these two boys, accustomed to the green grandeur of forests and crimson-clad Highland hills, sank within them, as they gazed from the windows of their cab.

      Was this the beautiful London they had heard tell of and expected to see? Nothing but discomfort and misery met their eyes at first, and when the conveyance stopped now and then, blocked by carts and wagons, they found they could scarcely understand a word of the jargon that fell on their ears from every side.

      "Moaning piper!" cried a ragged urchin, shoving a newspaper right under Duncan's nose.

      Duncan bought this morning paper.

      "Did you notice what he said, Conal?"

      "Yes; he said 'Moaning piper'. There must be something about a battle in it, and a Scotch piper must have been wounded. No wonder he moaned if he was shot through the chest or legs-eh, Duncan?"

      "No indeed, that would make anybody moan."

      But much to the boys' disgust there was nothing about a battle in the paper, nor about pipers, nor even about soldiers at all. So the newspaper was thrown down, and they contented themselves by looking from the windows at the crowds of people that were hurrying along the pavement, everyone intent only on his own business, and taking not the slightest notice of his neighbour. They had now got into a better part of the town. There were fewer guttersnipes and badly-dressed men and women here, less apparent poverty, in fact, with the exception of the poor, white-faced, hungry-looking girls and women who were selling flowers. During a block one of these came to the window near which Duncan sat, and he made the lassie happy by buying two button-holes, and giving her sixpence for them.

      The 'buses were objects of curiosity for our heroes.

      The drivers were ideal in their own way, and of a class not to be met with anywhere out of London.

      The boys criticised them unmercifully.

      "Oh, Duncan, did ever you see such faces, or such slow-looking men!"

      "Faces just like hams, Conal-and, why, they seem to be wearing about twenty coats! So solemn too-I wonder if ever those fellows smiled except over a pint of beer!"

      "And look at those huge wooden umbrellas!"

      "Yes, that is for fear a drop of rain should fall upon John Guttle, and he should catch cold."

      "Shouldn't I like to see one of these John Guttles trudging over a moor!"

      "He wouldn't trudge far, Conal; he would tumble down and gasp like an over-fed ox."

      "I say, Duncan, I haven't seen anybody with a plaid yet."

      "No, and you won't. Top-coats-nothing else-and tobacco-pipes. No wonder most of those male creatures on the tops of the 'buses are watery-nebbit or red-nosed."

      Now, however, private carriages began to mingle with the traffic, and the boys had more to wonder at. But inside these they caught glimpses of fashionable ladies, some young, charmingly dressed, and of a cast of beauty truly English and refined. What astonished Duncan and his brother most was the coachman and flunkeys on the dickey, so severely and stupidly aristocratic did they look.

      "Oh, Duncan," cried Conal laughing, "did ever you see such frights! and they've got on ladies' fur tippets!"

      "Yes, that is to keep their poor shivery bodies warm, Conal."

      "And they look just as if they owned all London, don't they?"

      "Yes, that is one of the peculiarities of the flunkey tribe. What's the odds, Conal, so long as they are happy?"

      The cab seemed to have reached the suburbs at last. Here were many a pleasant villa, and many a lordly mansion too, with splendid balconies, which were in reality gardens in the sky. There were trees, too, though now almost bare, and green lawns and bushes and flowers.

      But none of these latter appealed to our young heroes because they were all so artificial.

      Hillo! the cab stops; and the driver, radiant in the expectation of a tip, throws open the door.

      "'Ere we are at last, young gents. 'Appy to drink yer 'ealth. Thousand thanks! Hain't seen a 'alf-crown before for a month. Nobuddy needn't say to me as the Scots ain't liberal."

      One of the handsomest villas the boys had yet seen, and in the porch thereof stood Colonel Trelawney himself to welcome his guests.

      "Right welcome to the Limes," he cried heartily. "Frank is out, but he'll be home to luncheon. Why, what tall hardy chaps you are, to be sure, and I'm right glad you came in your native dress. I wonder how my boy would look in the kilt. It's a matter of legs, I believe."

      "Oh, sir," said Duncan, "he'll soon get legs when he comes to the Highlands, and climbs the hills and walks the moors for a few months."

      "Well, come in, boys. James, here, will show you your room. We've put you both in the same, as I know young fellows like to talk before turning in."

      The room was plainly, yet comfortably, furnished, and the window gave a pleasant view of gardens, shrubberies, and a cloudland of trees to which the autumn foliage still was clinging.

      "'Ot watah, young gents."

      "Thank you, James."

      Duncan and Conal made haste to wash and dress.

      James had opened their boxes, and was acting as valet to them in every way. But they were not used to this, and so they told James. God had given them hands and arms, and so they liked to make use of them.

      Hark! footsteps on the stairs. Hurried ones, too; two steps, one stride!

      Next moment the door was thrown open, and Frank himself stood before them, with both hands extended to bid them welcome.

      CHAPTER III. – THE BOYS' LIFE IN LONDON

      "Cousin Frank!"

      "That's me. And how are you, cousins Conal and Duncan? We're only far-off cousins, but that doesn't matter, does it? I'm jolly glad to see you, anyhow. You'll bring some life into this dull old hole; and I'll find some fun for you, you bet."

      "Did you ask if we betted?" said Duncan, smiling, but serious. "We wouldn't be allowed to."

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