Fiction > Book editions > London, 1886 - Kidnapped

THE   ROUND-HOUSE.                                 65
"Run away aft; run away aft with ye!" cried
Hoseason.
And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy
(who neither spoke nor moved), and ran up the ladder on
deck.
The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a
long, cresting swell. She was on the starboard tack,
and on the left hand, under the arched foot of the fore-
sail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. This, at
such an hour of the night, surprised me greatly; but I
was too ignorant to draw the true conclusion-that we
were going north-about round Scotland, and were now
on the high sea between the Orkney and the Shetland
Islands, having avoided the dangerous currents of the
Pentland Firth. For my part, who bad been so long
shut in the dark and knew nothing of head-winds, I
thought we might be half-way or more across the
Atlantic. And indeed (beyond that I wondered a little
at the lateness of the sunset light) I gave no heed to it,
and pushed on across the decks, running between the
seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going over-
board by one of the hands on deck, who had been always
kind to me.
The round-house, for which I was bound, and where
I was now to sleep and serve, stood some six feet above
the decks, and considering the size of the brig, was of
good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench,
and two berths, one for the captain and the other for the
two mates, turn and turn about. It was all fitted with
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