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With wildly beating heart Billy passed through the pines, the twilight gloom adding to his feeling of awe. Croaker had become strangely silent and now flitted before him like a black spirit of a crow. It was almost a relief when at last the tumble-down shack grew up in its tangle of vines and weeds. Once more into the daylight and Croaker took up the interrupted thread of his conversation with himself. He ducked and side-stepped and gave voice to expressions which Billy had never heard him use before. "You black, thievin' passel of impudence, you!" she was saying. "If I had a stick long enough to reach you, you'd never dirty any more of my new-washed clothes." "Sister, is your opinion of Lucy such that[Pg 191] you imagine she can have anything to do with Mr Lawrence unknown to me?".

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Her only reply to his speech was (as though she had not attended to his meaning), "Are you going to keep me a prisoner in this cabin?" She delivered the same wild, screaming laugh which had before filled the cabin with its insane music, and said, dropping her note into one of plaintiveness, whilst she extended her skirt with both hands as though she was about to make a step or two in a dance: "Think of poor Lucy Acton in rags! Think of the lady who was notable, before a liar and a rogue stole her from her father, for her fine dresses and modish hats and bonnets; oh, think of her"—she paused to sigh deeply—"in rags, a prisoner in a ship owned by her father, who would kill the wretch that tore her from his side!" "We'll not argue the point. St Vincent objects to inoculation for small-pox because he says that that disease is intended by God to keep the population down." "All the same we must mind our eye," said Captain Acton. "Shorten sail, Captain Weaver! But furl nothing! And stand by to get away close hauled on the larboard tack before we're within gunshot.".