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Fortune's Wheel. – Part III.
[June

temper will not be of the sweetest.

When his blinking eyes had accustomed themselves to the dimness, Winstanley cast a disconsolate glance around him. The low-roofed cabin showed wear and tear, and the panels stood sorely in need of repainting. The table and the seats in the centre were fixtures, and it needed dexterous navigation to thread the narrow passage between them and the surrounding lockers and horse-hair sofas; while a man over the middle height, unless he stooped his head, must infallibly bump it against the blackened beams above. But Mr Winstanley, though he loved his luxuries, was an old traveller: he had been in queer places and seen strange things; nor did he expect in a Hebridean cattle-boat to find the comforts of a Cunard Liner. Had it not been for that abominable gout, he would have enjoyed the novel experience rather than otherwise. And, the gout notwithstanding, he merely made a grimace when the shock-headed and courteous individual who officiated as steward, in answer to his inquiry as to an available berth, pointed to one of the tattered sofas.

"Ye see, sir, we're no just that weel provided with state-cabins," said the man apologetically, as if some half-dozen were already engaged, and they would have arranged to have one or two more had they expected his honour's arrival.

"If only I have no companions in my misery," murmured Winstanley, resignedly; and supporting himself on his valet's shoulder, he painfully regained the deck. But even that very natural wish was not to be gratified.

"I guess, stranger, I must have done you a mischief, and seems, judging from your limp when you came aboard, that you had been sorter crippled already."

The apology, such as it was, came from a lank, wiry figure, in a tall stove-pipe hat, and a suit of go-to-meeting garments; and Winstanley, although he had been repeatedly in America, detested Americans of a certain class. And assuredly an apology of some sort was due, since this particular citizen of the States had brought down his foot upon Mr Winstanley's afflicted member, making that dignified gentleman pirouette on one leg, with his hand on his servant's shoulder as the pivot of the movement. Hobbling off in rage and pain, he did not care to prolong the conversation; but the ejaculation he uttered, when beyond earshot of his assailant, made a Scotch minister, similarly attired in black, turn up his eyes in silent protestation. It was seldom that Mr Winstanley so far forgot himself. He hated the clergyman for that silent reproof, but he was still more annoyed with himself for having given cause for it.

Ere he had forgiven himself or regained his composure, the vessel was under way. She was a narrow, deep-waisted screw, indifferently manned, and apparently much overloaded. At least it struck our friend, who had been at sea in all manner of craft, that she was down by the head and thoroughly out of trim. She carried a load of sheep and black cattle forward, besides a score or two of Celts, who might be bound for the herring-fishing; and the deck abaft the funnel was hampered with a miscellaneous pile of mixed goods, so that her few hands had little room to move about. "I hope we may have fair weather," was his passing prayer; but his mind was chiefly preoccupied with his malady, as was only natural. The stamp of the American's