A quiet, short man broke in here.  He had sat smiling softly as the talk went on.  His face was gently humorous, and all the signs of a placid and pure life were there.  This smiling philosopher said, “That’s right, Fullerton.  Ferrier’s like my old mare used to be in the days when she was a little peacocky and fiery—­she always wanted to rush her journeys.  She steps soberly now.  We’ll teach him something before we’ve done with him.  You know, my dear boy, you must understand that the greater number of these men are, well—­uncultivated, do you understand.  They’re not so squalid, perhaps, as Lapps or Esquimaux, but they’re mostly as dense.  We’ve fought hard for a long time, and we’re making some headway; but we can do little, and if we could not get at our men by religion we couldn’t manage at all.  I’ve brought you into a queer country, and you must be prepared for a pretty set of surprises.  My sister and my niece have been out before, and I persuaded Mrs. Walton and Miss Dearsley to take a turn.  As soon as my people have got over their troubles we’ll all make a dead set at you, you audacious young materialist that you are.”  Then John Blair smiled gently once more, and there was a certain pride visible as his sad eyes twinkled on his young favourite.

This company of kind folks were all of the sort called evangelical, and they were bound on a strange errand, the like of which had brought one of the men out to sea many times before.  The yacht was now chasing one of the great North Sea trawling fleets, and Fullerton’s idea was to let the gallant young doctor see something of the wild work that goes on among the fishing-boats when the weather is ugly.

The dark, solemn young lady sat very still while the men talked, and her face had that air of intense attention which is so impressive when it is not simulated.  I think she was a spiritual relative of Joan of Arc and Madame Roland.  It seems dreadful to say so, but I am not sure that she would not have played Charlotte Corday’s part had occasion arisen.  In low, full tones she asked, “Did no one ever work among the fishers before Mr. Fullerton found them out?” “No one, except the fellows who sold vile spirits, my dear,” said Blair.

“Not a single surgeon?”

“Not one.  That’s why we decided to kidnap Ferrier.  We want to give him a proper school of surgery to practise in—­genuine raw material, and plenty of it, and you must help us to keep him in order.  Fancy his trying to convert us; he’ll try to convert you next, if you don’t mind!”

The girl paid no heed to the banter.  She went on as if in a reverie.

“It is enough to bring a judgment on a nation, all the idle women and idle men.  Mamma told me that a brewer’s wife paid two thousand pounds for flowers in one month.  Why cannot you speak to women?”