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"How many?" whispered Stanhope.,
"May I niver glimpse the blissid blue av Ireland's skies ag'in, if I spake a lie," said Harry, earnestly. "In the ha'nted house I found ut, Billy. Wait now, and I tell ye how ut so happened. Ye'll be rememberin' that night we tried to wait fer ould Scroggie's ghost an' the terrible storm come on and split us asunder wid a flash av blue lightnin'? I was crossin' meself in thankfulness that ut found the big elm instead av me, I was, whin I dropped me fairy charm, d'ye moind? Stay and seek fer ut I would not, wid all the powers av darkness conspirin' wid ould Scroggie ag'in me. Ut's fly I did on the wings av terror to me own cabin, an' covered up me head wid the bed-quilt, I did.",
As Hinter picked up his hat Erie entered and the light words he was about to speak died on his lips at sight of the girl's stricken face. "You are tired," he said, in deep concern. "The work of tending the lights alone is too much for you. Why not let me send someone from the Settlement to help you, at least until your father is strong enough to take up his end of the work again?",
"That ain't my fault!" bawled the man at the receding figure.
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"Very much indeed, madam. My inclination leans wholly towards the Merchant Service.[Pg 67] I would rather command the Minorca than a line-of-battle ship.",
"How many?" whispered Stanhope.,
"Gollies!" exulted Maurice. Then uncertainty in his tones, "A feller 'ud have to be a mighty good shot to do that though, Bill.",
He was Mr Walter Lawrence, a son of Admiral Lawrence, and down to a recent period a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. He was something over thirty years of age, but drink, dissipation, the hard life of the sea and some fever which had got into his blood and proved intermittent, had worked in his face like time, and he might have passed for any age between thirty-five and forty-five. Nevertheless he was an extremely handsome man, of the classic Greek type in lineament, but improved, at least to the British eye, by the Saxon colouring of hair, skin, and eyes. His teeth were extraordinarily white and good for a sailor who had lived on gun-room fare in times when the ship's biscuit was flint, and the peas which rolled about in the discoloured hot water called soup, fit only for loading a blunderbuss with to shoot men dead. His eyes told their tale of drink, but they were large and fine and spirited; his light brown hair, according to the fashion of[Pg 39] the age, was combed down his back and lay in a rope-shaped tail there. He wore a wide-brimmed round hat, and his attire, a little the worse for wear, consisted of a blue coat, white waistcoat, sage-green kerseymere breeches, and, needless to say, the cravat was high and full. He stood about six feet, his figure was extremely well proportioned, and in addition to these merits his carriage had the easy elegance which the flow of the billow and the heave of the deck infuse into all human figures not radically vile and deformed. His voice was soft, winning, and somewhat plaintive, and no man, whether on or off the stage, not even Incledon, sang a song with more exquisite feeling and sweeter sincerity of passion.
"Now, you black beggar, I've got you," exulted Billy. This fact did not seem to worry Croaker in the least. His beady eyes were busy searching for signs of his enemy. Ringdo being nowhere visible, his neck feathers gradually lowered and his heavy beak closed. He snuggled close against Billy's face and told him in throaty murmurs how much he loved him. Billy laughed, and seating himself on a log, placed the crow on his knees.
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Yet Captain Acton appeared to find in Mr Lawrence this evening a quality of bearing, a character of masculine beauty which had not certainly before impressed him to anything like the same degree. He had carefully dressed himself; his manner betokened complete self-possession; his handsome eyes shone clear and steady, and his face exhibited a mind whose command over itself was complete. The worn look partly due to dissipation, partly due to the hard life of the sea which[Pg 62] was often injuriously visible by daylight, was now concealed in the soft veil of light shed by the wax candles. They shook hands, and seated themselves.
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"Mr Lawrence has a beautiful voice," said[Pg 78] Lucy. "How touchingly he sang 'Tom Bowling'!"
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"He's gone," Maurice answered his chum's look. "Took to his heels when the lightnin' struck that elm. The shock knocked us both down. He was gone when I come to."
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>Billy ducked into the path through the grove and Anson resumed his reluctant pace toward the Valley School. On the bridge across Levee creek he came up with Elgin Scraff. Elgin was standing with his arms on the bridge rail, looking dejectedly down into the water.
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