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A bend of the river's path shut out the view of Old Harbour Town and the Harbour, and just when Mr Greyquill reached this turn, he saw Mr Lawrence coming along the road, having manifestly gained it by a little bridge, some distance beyond which was another way, but rather roundabout, of getting to Old Harbour from Sir William Lawrence's cottage.,

Sir William looked firmly and somewhat sternly at Miss Acton and said: "I am very sorry, madam, that you should hold this opinion, very sorry indeed. I had thought you the friend and well-wisher of my son—in this respect eminently the charitable and warm-hearted sister of Captain Acton. But if you mean to imply that Mr Lawrence wrote the letter to Miss Lucy, then you have to confess (which would be an indignity done to a beautiful character) that your niece was a willing recipient of my son's missive, that she hastened to him on reading the contents of his communication and that in short, the design of the Minorca's premature sailing was that Mr[Pg 205] Lawrence and Miss Lucy Acton should elope—a thing not to be dreamt of—at an hour when few were abroad, and when there was little or no chance of the news reaching her home that Captain Acton's daughter had sailed in the Minorca.",

He ceased speaking and drew himself up slowly, pursing his stern lips. "That is all I have to say for the time being," he said. "We shall endeavor to air this building, after which we will form classes. Will the fat boy with the rumpled hair and dirty neck, the one who is whispering to the boy behind him, be good enough to step forward?",

"It's awful," said Billy in awed tones. "I got as far as the first pond. It was far enough for me."

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"Yes. They were out in Billy's punt, gathering water-lilies, and, oh Daddy, they seemed so happy. I could have hugged them both. Billy told me that he and Maurice Keeler were going shooting ducks this morning and I asked him to come over here for breakfast as usual. The marsh shooting is all over by sunrise, you know.",

She caught her hat from a peg, opened the door, and Ringdo gamboled out before her. Down the path to the gate they sped and out into the tree-hedged road. Already the frost-pinched leaves, crimson-veined and golden, were being swung to earth by a soft wind that promised snow. With Ringdo galloping clumsily beside her Erie went down the road, trilling a snatch of a song.,

"You saw it?" Maurice, who could not think of questioning his chum's word, gasped in amazement.,

"Shout nuthin'; you keep still."