The sailor glanced at his striking appearance and neat dress. "Hardly in the cabun-buoy line I should say."
"Will you take me?" said Eric. "You'll find me strong and willing enough."
"Well--if the skipper don't say no. Come along."
They went down to a boat, and "Maister Davey" rowed to a schooner in the harbor, and took Eric on board.
"There," he said, "you may sleep there for to-night," and he pointed to a great heap of sailcloth beside the mast.
Weary to death, Eric flung himself down, and slept deep and sound till the morning, on board the "Stormy Petrel."
CHAPTER XII
THE STORMY PETREL
"They hadna sailed a league, a league,
A league, but barely three,
When the lift grew dark, and the wind grew high,
And gurly grew the sea."
SIR PATRICK SPENS.