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"Yes. Oh, I daresay the boy's all right, Benjamin, but he belongs to them Scotians and they're no friends of ourn. I reckon I scared him some when I threatened to give him the rope, eh?",

"Who piled on you from behind?",

Mr. Johnston pushed his chair back from the table. "Thank you exceedingly, Mr. Keeler. I have enjoyed your breakfast and your conversation very much indeed. Madam," he said, rising and turning to Mrs. Keeler, "permit me to extend to you my heartfelt gratitude for your share in the splendid hospitality that has been accorded me. I hope to see you again, some day.",

Just as the Admiral was cutting a second helping for himself from the round of beef, which being English was choicely tasted, he heard his son's footsteps in the passage outside, and after a short interval, during which Mr Lawrence fitted himself for the dinner table, that gentleman walked in. He was almost immediately followed by the old housekeeper with hot plates. She was very fond of Mr Lawrence. She would listen for his footsteps. He was still "Master Walter" with her, and would remain so. She had once, on hearing of his money troubles, offered to lend him from her slender savings. But whatever may have been his character he was a sailor in this: he would not take money from a woman.

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"No, sir," responded Captain Acton, with his eye at his glass. "Line of battle-ships, and three smaller vessels," for by this time the distant fleet by combination of its own and the passage of the Aurora through the water had lifted above the horizon to the topsails of the hindmost, the courses of the van swelling and falling plain in the lenses as the structures bowed upon the large, wide, steel-coloured swell tinctured by the day-spring.,

"Why, sir," answered the Admiral, "I don't see that we should be late if we did not go at all.",

The horse reached forward his long muzzle and lipped one of the boy's ears. "Say horses don't understand!" grinned Maurice. "Gee! I guess maybe they do understand, though.",

At breakfast, which was necessarily delayed on board the Aurora, the conversation, as may be supposed, was almost entirely concerned with undoubtedly the most memorable incident—the meeting with Nelson—in the lives of Captain Acton and Sir William. The Aurora had hauled out of the Fleet with a dipping flag, and with wings eagerly straining to the breath of the strengthening blue breeze that gushed with a tropic warmth over the little seas which creamed and purred in heads that would easily grow spiteful and change their fountain-like music into a harsh hissing as of serpents, was heading as true a course as Captain Weaver could imagine for the barque that Captain Acton wanted.