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He made another of his bows, and Mr[Pg 137] Lawrence saluting him with a slight smile and a lifted hat, passed on. "Well, you might as well have both bowls then. I don't like to see good bread an' milk wasted." "A relation, sir?" said the master of the Louisa Ann, addressing Captain Weaver, whom he had immediately perceived was not of the standing of the two Naval gentlemen..
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It was not long before the brig that was chasing on the schooner's weather-quarter swelled and paled in distortion with the encompassing thickness, and presently she was a pallid square, and then she became a smudge, after which the rain curtain dropped upon her, and she vanished. Then it was that Captain Weaver luffed the schooner to windward of her course, and she went ahead with flattened-in sheets, leaning to it and severing the flint-coloured billow with her sharp tooth of fore-foot: and so she held on, until, had the weather cleared, the brig, even had she taken in her stun-sails and hauled the wind with yards sweated fore and aft, would have been found dead to leeward and far away beyond all dream of prize money amongst the French crew. "Did you observe Mr Greyquill," continued[Pg 114] the Admiral, "on the wharf behind a little crowd of people viewing the ship under his lifted hand? He was there when you came on deck." As he rounded the kitchen, preparatory to a leap across the open space between it and the big wood-pile, Mrs. Wilson's voice came to him, high-pitched and freighted with anger. "No, sir, no!" cried the Admiral in a deep, trembling voice..
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