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Shortly after midnight he softly turned the key in Lucy's door and looked in, and deeming that she lay asleep he passed in, closing the door behind him, that the roll of the ship might not slam the door and awaken the sleeper. The light was dim, but sufficiently clear for[Pg 306] eyes that had come out of the gloom or darkness. A mattress lay upon the deck close against the bedstead, which was emptied of its furniture, and upon this mattress was stretched the figure of Lucy Acton. She was fully dressed as in the day, save that she had removed her jockey-shaped hat. The bolster from the bedstead supported her head. Some of her dark hair had become disengaged and lay loosely about her cheek, giving the purity of marble to her brow in that light, and her sleep was so deep that she lay as though dead. On the deck close beside her grasp was a common table knife.,

"Take meself," he went on, drawing his stool closer to the chairs of his young friends. "All me life have I dhrunk more er less av the cup that cheers; but I'm through now, byes, not so much either because ut's a fit av the blue divils the stuff give me but because I mane from now on to quaff the swate draft of Nature widout a bad taste in me mouth. I'm through wid whisky feriver, and ut's Harry O'Dule, siventh son av a siventh son, so declares himself this day. Ut's out into God's blissid sunlight have I come afther bein' held prisoner by a deadlier disease than measles, me byes.",

Croaker watched him reach for a chink in the logs and raise himself toward the treasure house. Then he became silent and sat huddled up, wings drooping discontentedly, his whole aspect one of utter despair.,

"Well, what is it, then? Who sent you? Come now, out with it quick, or I'll take a tarred rope-end to you."

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"Gee! Bill, is she goin' to give you ten cents fer helpin' Maurice keep fire on?" asked Anson eagerly.,

"But the cabin is motionless, madam," said Mr Lawrence. "It is the tumbling of the sea that makes you ill. Here we are as restful as a painting.",

The Aurora's boat was swept alongside the brig, and Captain Acton and the Admiral clambered over the side up a short flight of steps, and in an instant Lucy was clasped in the devouring embrace of her father. Such an old-world scene taxes the highest gifts of the pen or the brush. This Louisa Ann was about fifty years old; she was nearly as broad as she was long. Her fore-mast was stepped far in the bows; her decks were stained and grimy; the paint had faded out of the inside of her bulwarks. Her sails were patched and so dingy that they might have been coloured as a smack's. Her rusty sides were lined with yawning seams amid which three little circular windows were merged with no accentuation from the dirt-shrouded glass which prevented the sea from entering the blistered, worn, mani-coloured hull. Her sailors looked as though[Pg 359] they were shipwrecked: long-haired, bearded, sallow, in clothes considerably tattered, in aspect melancholy and dejected with lack of nourishment, dullness of sailing and ceaseless motion: for here was the tub wallowing like a buoy in a popple upon a smooth sea, and the frightful weather she would make off Cape Horn or in a gale of wind the imagination of a sailor could readily picture by witnessing her motions now.,

"But where's Bill? Ain't he agoin?"