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At this moment Captain Acton cried out, halting as he uttered the words with his eyes fixed in the direction of Old Harbour: "Bless my soul! what can have happened? Is the French Flotilla in sight?",

"Nobody knows what it is," he whispered. "Some say it's a gorilla and others say it's a big lynx. Ol' Harry's the only one who saw it, an' he's so clawed and bit he can't describe it to nobody.",

"Why, no, sir.",

"Yep, we heard Hinter say Scroggie was a headstrong fool, an' he wished he'd never had anythin' to do with him; but that he'd have to handle him with gloves till he got Lost Man's Swamp away from him."

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"Has Admiral Lawrence been here?",

The little leaning vessel, diminished by the distance from which she was surveyed into a size fit only to be manned by Liliputian sailors, crept like a small white cloud along the placid water of Old Harbour, and rounding the pier hauled the wind for a south-westerly course. They watched her as she streamed onwards with a sparkle as pretty as a rainbow at her fore-foot, and a short scope of trembling lustre astern as though she towed a length of satin. A few minutes before she disappeared from the sight of those who viewed her from the lawn of Old Harbour House, past the bluff or round of cliff on which stood the dropsical old lighthouse, she dipped her flag manifestly in response to a hidden salutation, and scarcely had she vanished when there stole out from the edge of the cliff round which she had gone, the slanting figure of a large three-masted schooner with the English ensign at her peak. She was steering directly for Old Harbour. Though she had evidently come a long journey, she made upon those silver-white rippling waters a far handsomer figure than the brig. She was clothed from truck[Pg 81] to waterway with sails which reflected the light of the morning with something of the splendour of polished metal. Her hull was black, but she was inclined sufficiently by the breeze to reveal a narrow breadth of copper sheathing, which sprang pulses of wet dazzling light upon the eye in keen flashes like gun fire.,

Mr Lawrence started suddenly, stood up, looked round him, and viewed steadfastly for a space Lucy's cabin door. Then muttering to himself, "To-morrow—to-morrow!" he made his way towards the deck.,

"Humph! That's jest like him, but why he should give you his best tie and collar is beyond me. Do you think you deserve any gifts from your brother after what you done to him? It jest goes to show you what a real good heart that boy has. I declare, Anson, I do wish you was more like him. Now you get your hair combed and your hat brushed and get away to Sunday School."