A Sudden and Tremendous Change in Ruby’s Fortunes.  
What a variety of appropriate aphorisms there are to express the great truths of human experience! “There is many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip” is one of them. Undoubtedly there is. So is there “many a miss of a sweet little kiss.” “The course of true love,” also, “never did run smooth.” Certainly not. Why should it? If it did we should doubt whether the love were true. Our own private belief is that the course of true love is always uncommonly rough, but collective human wisdom has seen fit to put the idea in the negative form. So let it stand.
 
Ruby had occasion to reflect on these things that day, but the reflection afforded him no comfort whatever.
 
The cause of his inconsolable state of mind is easily explained.
 
The boat had proceeded about halfway to Arbroath when they heard the sound of oars, and in a few seconds a ship’s gig rowed out of the fog towards them. Instead of passing them the gig was steered straight for the boat, and Ruby saw that it was full of men-of-war’s men.
 
He sprang up at once and seized an oar.
 
“Out oars!” he cried. “Boys, if ever you pulled hard in your lives, do so now. It’s the press-gang!”
 
Before those few words were uttered the two men had seized the oars, for they knew well what the press-gang meant, and all three pulled with such vigour that the boat shot over the smooth sea with double speed. But they had no chance in a heavy fishing boat against the picked crew of the light gig. If the wind had been a little stronger they might have escaped, but the wind had decreased, and the small boat overhauled them yard by yard.
 
Seeing that they had no chance, Ruby said, between his set teeth:
 
“Will ye fight, boys?”
 
“I will,” cried Davy Spink sternly, for Davy had a wife and little daughter on shore, who depended entirely on his exertions for their livelihood, so he had a strong objection to go and fight in the wars of his country.
 
“What’s the use?” muttered Big Swankie, with a savage scowl. He, too, had a strong disinclination to serve in the Royal Navy, being a lazy man, and not overburdened with courage. “They’ve got eight men of a crew, wi’ pistols an’ cutlashes.”
 
“Well, it’s all up with us,” cried Ruby, in a tone of sulky anger, as he tossed his oar overboard, and, folding his arms on his breast, sat sternly eyeing the gig as it approached.
 
Suddenly a beam of hope shot into his heart. A few words will explain the cause thereof.
 
About the time the works at the Bell Rock were in progress, the war with France and the Northern Powers was at its height, and the demand for men was so great that orders were issued for the establishment of an impress service at Dundee, Arbroath, and Aberdeen. It became therefore necessary to have some protection for the men engaged in the works. As the impress officers were extremely rigid in the execution of their duty, it was resolved to have the seamen carefully identified, and, therefore, besides being described in the usual manner in the protection-bills granted by the Admiralty, each man had a ticket given to him descriptive of his person, to which was attached a silver medal emblematical of the lighthouse service.
 
That very week Ruby had received one of the protection-medals and tickets of the Bell Rock, a circumstance which he had forgotten at the moment. It was now in his pocket, and might perhaps save him.
 
When the boat ranged up alongside, Ruby recognised in the officer at the helm the youth who had already given him so much annoyance. The officer also recognised Ruby, and, with a glance of surprise and pleasure, exclaimed:
 
“What! have I bagged you at last, my slippery young lion?”
 
Ruby smiled as he replied, “Not quite yet, my persevering young jackall.” (He was sorely tempted to transpose the word into jackass, but he wisely restrained himself.) “I’m not so easily caught as you think.”
 
“Eh! how? what mean you?” exclaimed the officer, with an expression of surprise, for he knew that Ruby was now in his power. “I have you safe, my lad, unless you have provided yourself with a pair of wings. Of course, I shall leave one of you to take your boat into harbour, but you may be sure that I’ll not devolve that pleasant duty upon you.”
 
“I have not provided myself with wings exactly,” returned Ruby, pulling out his medal and ticket; “but here is something that will do quite as well.”
 
The officer’s countenance fell, for he knew at once what it was. He inspected it, however, closely.
 
“Let me see,” said he, reading the description on the ticket, which ran thus:—
 
    “Bell Rock Workyard, Arbroath,
 
    “20th June, 1810.
 
    “Ruby Brand, seaman and blacksmith, in the service of the Honourable the Commissioners of the Northern Lighthouses, aged 25 years, 5 feet 10 inches high, very powerfully made, fair complexion, straight nose, dark-blue eyes, and curling auburn hair.”
 
This description was signed by the engineer of the works; and on the obverse was written, “The bearer, Ruby Brand, is serving as a blacksmith in the erection of the Bell Rock Lighthouse.”
 
“This is all very well, my fine fellow,” said the............