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Therefore, when a ship was newly come home even to a little maritime scene such as Old Harbour, there was plenty to hold groups in animated converse on the quay-side. Billy knew exactly what he was going to hear at Sunday School, and what he was going to see, and there wasn't much of interest in that for a live boy. Consequently he was quite unprepared for the unexpected shock he received on this particular morning, when he trailed dejectedly into the Sunday School room behind his mother and Anson. It was a sure hand that raised the old gun, a sure eye that glanced along its brown barrels. At the first loud report of the black powder the leader of the flock crumpled up and the second in command drifted sidewise from the flock. The left barrel spoke and a third duck twisted from the remainder of the flock, to fall with a splash into the water..
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Scarcely had the old gentleman pronounced these words when a footman, throwing open the door, exclaimed: "Mr Greyquill presents his humble respects to Captain Acton, and desires leave to speak with him." "Anse," Billy's voice was sympathetic. "I see I have to tell you everythin'. Ma, she's goin' fo give you the canin' of your young life, jest as soon as she thinks we're proper asleep." "Daddy," she cried, running over to kneel beside him. "It was selfish of me to leave you alone." "Oh, Captain Weaver, there are many wicked people at sea!" cried Miss Acton. "Think of the pirates! Think of the slavers! My poor, poor niece!".
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