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Jim nudged Maurice but Maurice shook his head. "You tell him," he said. "Well, John," said Pledge, "it's not for me nor the likes of me to interfere in such a galavantin' job as this. If the young lady's been run away with with her own consent, it's not for me, I says, to pay any attention to what's 'appening. People who fall in love with each other and are objected to by their relatives will sometimes carry on their business in a way as might make pious, respectable old parients feel their hair standing short up on their heads. I've lived long enough in this 'ere world to descover that no good ever comes to a man by messing about in other people's consarns. But when it comes to this ship being navigated to another port than the one agreed for, why, naturally you set me a-thinking, John. I don't know nothing about them sealed orders you refer to, but it seemed strange to me when I heard of it, and it's strange to me still, that Mr Lawrence should have been chosen to command this vessel when[Pg 274] the berth was yourn by right of sarvice. Was it because Captain Acton couldn't be sure of your a-executing his wishes? What d'ye think yourself, John? You've got to consider it's two naval officers acting together; they know each other's mind, and I guess that when Captain Acton chose Mr Lawrence to take charge of his ship he knew that he was in the 'ands of a man who'd listen to no talk, who was used to man-o'-war's discipline, and would act if it came to having to shoot men down so as to gain his ends." Apparently the boy did not hear the first question. "Mr. Ringold," he whispered, "I waited here to see you. The Sandtown fishermen are comin' to rob your orchard tonight.".

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"But pray, Lucy," exclaimed Captain Acton, "what was Mr Eagle about? Did not he know that you were Mr Lawrence's prisoner, though he might not have been able to guess that it was Mr Lawrence's intention to navigate the ship to Rio to sell her there? Did not he make any effort to rescue you by appeals to the Captain, or by so working up the crew as to determine them to sail the ship back to Old Harbour Town?" "May I have a word with you, sir?" he exclaimed in a coarse, hoarse, broken voice. It was Sunday. Anson, with eyes close-shut and suds dripping from his freckled nose, was having his weekly ear and neck cleansing, his mother's strong hands applying the coarse wash-cloth. Billy stood by, anticipating his turn, his eyes straying occasionally to the long "muzzle-loader" hanging on the deer-prong rack. Tomorrow the duck-season opened and he was wondering how he was going to contrive to sneak the old gun down and give it a thorough cleaning. Suddenly he became aware that operations in the vicinity of the wash-basin had become suspended. He glanced across to find his mother's gaze fixed sternly upon him. Anson was looking mightily pleased. "If you had somethin' sweet an' soothin' to give him," Billy suggested. "Pine syrup, er hoarhound, er somethin' like that, now—".