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On which Miss Acton screamed out: "What did I say? Are not my words true? To think of our beloved Lucy imprisoned in a ship! Sailed away with, never to be seen more perhaps, in the hands of—of—oh, what is to be done? What is to be done?" "No coffee, thanks; had breakfast; I'll go 'long with you. Oh, by the way, Tom, I know now what caused that explosion t'other night," and the deacon proceeded to relate his investigation of the walled-in well. "That it does," agreed Mrs. Keeler, indignantly. "An' him, poor young man, helpless through loss of his eyesight and all. You heard, of course, that Frank Stanhope and Erie Landon had broke their engagement?".

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"Bill, watch out!" warned Maurice. "There's a big womper coiled on that lily-root. You're makin' right fer it." He returned to England, and went to his father ostensibly to seek a berth ashore, but for many months past he had been hanging about Old Harbour Town, an idler and a tippler, and handsome as he was, and brilliant[Pg 41] as had been his short naval story, he was not the man to commend himself to Lucy Acton as a husband whatever may have been her secret feelings in regard to his person and some points of his character. After a time Harry pushed his stool back from the table. "Byes," he said, producing a short black pipe from his pocket. "It's lend ye a spade and lantern I'll do an' gladly; but it's yerselves would surely not be axin' me t' test me powers ag'in a spirrut. Listen now. Old Scroggie's ghost do be guardin' his money, wheriver it lies. That you know as well as me. It's frank I'll be wid ye, an' tell ye that ag'in spirruts me powers are as nuthin'. An' go widin the unholy circle av the ha'nted grove to do favor t' aither man 'er divil I'll not." "Oh Jerusalem!" groaned the terrified Fatty, "It's the ghost! Look, it's sheddin' blue grave-mist! Fer the love of Mike let's git out'a this!".