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"Then you best tell me where you're gettin' the whisky," said Billy. "It is a draft or copy," said Captain Acton. "It is undated, and it is without the formal beginning of My dear, etc." "I don't want to go swimmin'" wailed Maurice, "but I do want'a walk a bit out through the woods, Ma.".

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Mrs. Wilson was outside, by this time, and tying on her sun-bonnet. Maurice held back. She grasped his arm and hustled him down the walk. He seemed convinced by these enquiries at the wharves that at all events Mr Lawrence could have had nothing whatever to do with the communication which Mr Adams had seen Paul place in the hands of Miss Lucy. Who, then, was the sender of the note, and how was it that Paul, who should have been on board his ship since she was on the eve of sailing, should have been engaged to carry the letter? There was really no particular reason why the writer should be a man. Why should not she be a woman? She might even be[Pg 196] a relative of the fellow Paul. Lucy was a girl of singular kindness, who was always helping others and going amongst the poor and ministering to the afflicted; and though Captain Acton could not positively say, he might readily believe that she had one or two or three poor sufferers on her list whom she saw to and helped with her purse, and one of these—possibly a woman—might have written the letter in a moment of urgency intending it for delivery at Old Harbour House. Billy turned. "I didn't say I ate Anson's pie an' cake, Ma," he said gently. "I didn't take it 'cause I wanted it." Eagle stood dumbfounded. He was prepared to hear her represent her state in such fiction as had been preconcerted between her and Mr Lawrence. But he never could have supposed that simulation of madness was the posture of mind she had pre-arranged to feign, and she looked so mad and spoke so madly that it was impossible for such a stubborn, sour old fool to see the truth or know what she meant..