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"British or French?" enquired Captain Acton, letting his glass sink whilst he looked at his companions. "Before we sailed the news had got about that Villeneuve meant to[Pg 392] go for the West Indies. It may be his ships returning." He pointed his glass again, and counted: "Eleven sail of the line and three frigates.",
"I am Admiral Sir William Lawrence," was next bawled. "Will you be so good as to inform me if Lord Nelson is on board one of those ships, and which ship?",
"Certainly not. Oh for God's sake stop probing me this way. I'm willing to tell all there is to tell.",
"You bet!" came the spontaneous answer.
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Down through the night-enshrouded woods the boys made their way noiselessly, Billy leading, Walter Watland, nicknamed Fatty on account of his size, close behind him and Maurice Keeler, Billy's sworn chum and confidant, bringing up the rear. Occasionally a soft-winged owl fluttered up from its kill, with a muffled "who-who." Once a heavy object plunged from the trail with a snort, and the boys felt the flesh along their spines creeping. They kept on without so much as a word, crossing a swift creek on a fallen tree, holding to its bank and making a detour into the woods to avoid passing close to a dilapidated log cabin which in the moonlight bore evidence of having fallen into disuse. As they skirted the heavy thicket of pines, which even in the summer night's stillness sighed low and mournfully, the leader halted suddenly and a low exclamation fell from his lips.,
Landon was much improved in health. He spoke with little effort, the hollows in his cheeks were filling and his eyes were brighter than the girl had seen them for many a day. He gazed longingly down at the cigar, then glancing up to catch his daughter's reproachful look, sighed and laid it on the table.,
"And Cobin—he ain't any head at all, poor Cobin—did he talk sell?",
"I delivered the missage to Hinter. And whin I returned to me cabin I found everythin' in a jumble, an' no mistake. Somebody had scattered the furs on me bunk and turned everythin' upside down, they had, an' they had sought underneath the flure, too."
She ran to the side of what may be called the litter, and looked down upon the face that rested upon a bolster. She clasped her hands. She compressed her lips. No exclamation escaped her, but one saw in her beautiful face the expression of that deep pity which is ever the attendant of love where sorrow is or suffering.
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"This is the yarn, Fellowes," said the Admiral, who, it had been pre-arranged, was[Pg 422] to tell the story. "My friend Acton is the owner of this schooner; he is also the owner of another ship, called the Minorca. Now, this ship, of which my friend was good enough to give the command to my son——"
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"Now," said he in a soft voice full of the emotion which his daughter's preservation and restoration had filled him with—"now that my dear child, by the mercy and goodness of Almighty God, has been returned to me I am for heading straight for Old Harbour Town, for she has had enough of the sea—more than enough, and I am for having her at home, safe again. She has gone through much, she looks ill, she needs the rest and nursing she can only get at home."
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"Lord love us!" Mrs. Wilson started to undo her apron. "Why didn't you tell me before, you freckle-faced jackass, you! Lord knows what use you boys are anyways! Think of you, hangin' 'round here askin' fer Billy and your poor Ma at home groanin' in pain an' needin' help. Ain't you 'shamed of yourself?"
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Halin-Chen Response,
>Mr Lawrence walked on. He thought of old Greyquill when he passed the place where he had stopped to talk. He crossed the quaint old bridge duplicated in the river, which streamed with becalmed surface up here and mirrored with the precision of a looking-glass the hues and shapes of every bird that swept the glassy surface for an insect, and gaining a rich lane formed by seven or eight hundred years of growth, for a monastery had stood here and a knight had had his manor where now the land was without relic of stone or brick; but the vegetation left by these people flourished, and though not above half a mile in length that lane formed one of the most glorious, soothing, enfolding, impulse-creating walks in all that country-side which abounded in little paradisaical reaches of a like kind; I say Mr Lawrence crossed the bridge, and emerging from the lane struck the high-road, and presently gained his father's cottage.
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