As the young lieutenant walked away with a great clattering of his long sword, I looked at his laced cocked hat and his epaulettes, and fancied myself in a similar uniform. However, my native simplicity came to my rescue, and, good as this opportunity of serving my Queen appeared, I yet thought fondly of the pilot's busy, perilous life. Something told me that it was my destiny to be a pilot, as my fathers for three generations had been before me.
I went into Oliver Gray's inn, and there found my skipper, Davie Flett, awaiting me. He was talking with a little old man, whom I soon recognized as Isaac the Dutch Jew, who had bought the viking's ruby from Tom Kinlay. When I entered, Isaac retired to a far corner of the parlour and watched me closely as I talked with Captain Flett.
"When do we sail, captain?" I asked, as I sat down beside the skipper.
"Tomorrow night," said he.
And I judged that I should now have to determine without delay which of the three appointments I should take--remain with Flett, join the revenue cutter, or become a pilot.
"I've just been speaking with Lieutenant Fox of the Clasper," I said. "He wants me to go into the revenue business."
"Ay! and so you're to be a blue jacket, eh?" mused Flett, without offering any objection to my leaving the Falcon.
"No," I replied, "I'm not sure yet that I'll join them, captain. The fact is, I have also seen Jack Paterson, and he wants me to become a pilot."
"That's more in your line, my lad. Tak' my advice and join the pilots. Ye'll do better as a pilot than anything else. It's in your blood. As for the Falcon, I said when you came aboard us that you could easily leave if you chanced upon something better. We can soon get another lad to fill your berth. Maybe ye ken a lad yersel' that would come aboard us?"
"Ay, that I do," I responded. "There's Robbie Rosson, he'd be glad of the chance."