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Croaker considered this last statement a moment. Then he carefully raised one foot and twisted half way around on the bar. "Will you now sing us a song, Mr Lawrence?" exclaimed Captain Acton. "It don't seem right to wake boys up just to give 'em a whalin', Mary," he protested. "My Ma used to wake me up sometimes, but never to whale me. I'd rather remember—".
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Billy found himself, face down, on the wet moss. Maurice was tugging at his arm. The stricken tree had burst into flame, beneath the ghostly light of which path, creek and pine-grove stood out clear-limned as a cameo against a velvet background. Billy noted this as he sat dazedly up. He and Maurice were alone; old Harry had vanished. "Mary," he said, "what is it? What have I done?" He squared his shoulders and held out his hand. The pointer came down with all the strength that the man dared put behind it. Johnston peered closely into the boy's face. It was white and quivering but it still wore a smile. "She left the Harbour at about a quarter past eight this morning, sir," answered Weaver..
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