Neil was silent a moment, and the general saw tears rising in the blue eyes that he had supposed were always shrewd or fierce.
“He was my brother!� Neil broke out at last, and because his heart was so full that he had to tell some one, he told the big, considerate general the whole story. “And you may do what you please with me, general,� he ended. “I had to let him go free.�
The general took the boy’s small, shaking hand. “I don’t think you let him go free, exactly, Neil,� he said. “That minute of mercy will make him more or less your captive all his life.�
JOHN PAUL JONES: THE BOY OF THE ATLANTIC[Y]
By Rupert S. Holland
A little Scottish lad dreamed of a great sea fight—of a flag with red and white stripes, and white stars on a blue field. This story tells how his dream came true.
THE summer afternoon was fair, and the waves that rolled upon the north shore of Solway Firth in the western Lowlands of Scotland were calm and even. But the tide was coming in, and inch by inch was covering the causeway that led from shore to a high rock some hundred yards away. The rock was bare of vegetation, and sheer on the landward side, but on the face toward the sea, were rough jutting points that would give a climber certain footholds, and near the top smooth ledges.
On one or two of these ledges sea-gulls had built their nests, tucked in under projecting points where they would be sheltered from wind and rain. Now the gulls would sweep in from sea, curving in great circles until they reached their homes, and then would sit on the ledge calling to their mates across the water. Except for the cries of the gulls, however, the rock was very quiet. The lazy, regular beat of the waves about its base was very soothing. On the longest ledge, below the sea-gulls’ nests, lay a boy about twelve years old, sound asleep, his face turned toward the ocean.
Either the gulls’ cries or the sun, now slanting in the west, disturbed him. He did not open his eyes, but he clenched his fists, and muttered incoherently. Presently with a start he awoke. He rubbed his eyes, and then sat up. “What a queer dream!� he said aloud.
The ledge where he sat was not a very safe place. There was scarcely room for him to move, and directly below him was the sea. But this boy was quite as much at home on high rocks or in the water as he was on land, and he was very fond of looking out for distant sailing-vessels and wondering where they might be bound.