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That is the Path of Righteousness, Though after it but few inquires. "And see ye not yon braid, braid road, That lies across the lily leven? That is the Path of Wickedness, Though some call it the road to Heaven." Thomas the Rhymer. Phillip and Harry reached New York in very different states of mind. Harry was buoyant. He found a letter from Col.
While Charley and his men pushed forward, Rhymer and the remainder having landed, advanced a short distance to support him in case he should have to retreat. Charley led the way to a spot pointed out by Morgan, where Ned had last been seen. They hunted about among the bushes, but no trace of him could they discover.
The boatswain's whistle sounded, the hands flew aloft, the canvas was furled, and in a few minutes the "Ione" was brought up at no great distance from the town. The commander shortly afterwards went on shore, and several members of the midshipmen's berth obtained leave to follow him under charge of Rhymer.
Though Rhymer still cried out, "We shall have her, we shall have her!" gradually his voice lost its tone of confidence, the breeze freshened, and the dhow began rapidly to distance her pursuer. Still the boat followed; the wind might again fail and the chase be overtaken. Instead of failing, however, the wind increased, and the dhow's hull sunk beneath the horizon.
"I cannot make out what these Arabs say with this abominable noise." It is very doubtful if he would have understood his prisoners even had there been perfect silence. In order not to be seen by the blacks Ned walked aft. Rhymer made signs to the Arabs to give up their arms, which he handed into the boat as the best means of preventing any attempt they might make to recapture their vessel.
It occurred to Ned that if Rhymer had not landed on the island this would have been more likely. The wind being light, the oars were got out and the boat went along at a good rate. "We shall have her, we shall have her!" cried the old mate; "she is within range of our gun. Try a shot, Meadows." Charley sprang forward, and glancing along the piece, fired, but the shot fell short.
"The bard, therefore, was thinking within himself upon the uncommon mixture of the mystical scholar and warrior in his old master, when, as he bent his eyes upon the book of the ancient Rhymer, he was astonished to observe it slowly removed from the desk on which it lay by an invisible hand.
It was about the time of Edward Bruce's wild reign in Ulster that Dublin University was founded by Archbishop Bigmore; and in contrast to this advance in learning, a few years later, a horrible and barbarous warfare raged, because Lord de la Poer was supposed to have insulted Maurice of Desmond by calling him a rhymer.
Among his professed disciples was Thomas Occleve, a dull rhymer, who, in his Governail of Princes, a didactic poem translated from the Latin about 1413, drew, or caused to be drawn, on the margin of his MS. a colored portrait of his "maister dere and fader reverent."
The river, which was of considerable width, was thickly lined on both sides by trees; in the middle of it the dhow was seen, running on with all her canvas set, still beyond reach of the boat's gun. "We have her now, safe enough," exclaimed Rhymer; "though, if the river is navigable far up from the mouth, she may lead us a long chase before we catch her."
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