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His lordship bowed: upon which the Admiral and Captain Acton paid him the homage of their hats in a well-accentuated flourish of courtesy, for not only was Lord Garlies a brave man and a fine seaman: he was the son of an earl and heir to a title which made a[Pg 426] claim that in its way was not less irresistible in 1805 than it may be found a hundred years later. "Likely story that about his pilin' on you from behind," scoffed Billy. "You met him on the path an' tried to get gay with him, more like, an' he pasted you a few. You shouldn't hunt trouble, Anse; you can't fight, an' you know it. What's this new boy like?" he asked curiously. "Walter Watland.".
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Here, with many low croaks, he proceeded to search his surroundings with quick, suspicious eyes, straining forward to peer closely at scrub or bush, then cunningly twisting about suddenly as though hoping to take some skulking watcher behind him unawares. After Lucy had done her shopping—and the few articles were to be delivered punctually that afternoon—she walked along High Street, so as to return by the road she had come by. When her steps had brought her abreast of "The Swan," she saw two men standing in conversation in the doorway of that old hostelry. They both bowed low to her, but it might have been noticed that after she had saluted them in return, the fine natural glow of her cheeks slightly deepened and her step appreciably quickened. If her object was to escape these men she must either run, which would not have been seemly, or submit to being overtaken if pursued, which happened in the case of one of them, and within a few minutes a gentleman was walking at her side. Here the conversation was stayed for a minute or two by the entrance of a footman with a tray of sandwiches and cakes, and ale for Captain Weaver, and wine, and the like. "Faith," cried Harry, "ut's divil a bit I know concernin' that man Trigger Finger, but ut's small reward they'd be gettin' fer their pains if they tied me up and tried torture, an' I'll be tellin' ye fer why, byes. The stuff's gone back to Spencer. Load ut I did meself on Joe Scraff's buckboard, not more than an hour agone. The box wid the black fox skins an' two big jugs av whisky. Back I sent ut all, byes, wid the compliments av the both av ye an' me poor self. But now it'll be there, and the heart av ould Caleb'll be beatin' two skips fer one wid jye at recoverin' all av his stolen possessions. I did right, I hope now, in sindin' ut along back?" he finished..
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