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Captain Acton easily perceived what was happening, and might as easily have guessed what was to come. The Admiral was as perceptive as his friend, and as reserved. And now he was back again; and this time he did not intend to risk his life in those sucking sands. From a couple of dead saplings, with the aid of wild grape-vines, he fashioned a light raft which would serve as a support in the bog, and carry his weight in the putrid mire beyond. Strange sounds came to his ears as he worked his way across the desolate waste toward the first great pond—scurrying, rustling sounds of hidden things aroused from their security. Once a big grey snake stirred from torpor to lift its head and hiss at him. Billy lifted it aside with his pole and went on. Mrs. Wilson remained thoughtful. Billy, watching her with furtive speculation, hoped from the relaxing lines in her brow that all was well with the world once more. Hope became an assurance with her next words..
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
Mr Lawrence descended the steps into the cabin, which has already been described, with its plain sea furniture and stand of arms, and entered the after berth which he had pretended to convert into a sick bay. Here were two rough bunks, one on top of the other, each containing a mattress and bolster. It was the middle berth betwixt the Captain's and the pantry. Mr Lawrence's sea-chest, clothes, and nautical instruments were here collected. He stepped to a shelf and took from it a tin box containing the ship's papers, and from this box he drew out a large, portentous, heavily-sealed [Pg 247]envelope, whose enclosure of stout paper rendered it somewhat thick and bulky. He looked at the address. Upon the envelope in a bold clerkly hand was written: At this point Mr Lawrence, who judged that as much had been said as was likely to interest him, put his foot over the coaming and passed on to the deck, walking, without heeding the presence of the two men, to the binnacle stand. He inspected the compass, and then looked along the deck. Only one figure was now visible, and he had started to stump the planks in the true deep-sea look-out fashion. That night, after separating from Maurice, Billy went over to the Stanhope cottage. It was late but Frank Stanhope was standing beside the white gate, his arms folded on its top, his chin upon them. Mrs. Wilson caught her breath, but whatever objections her mind raised against the last named remained unuttered. All she said was. "This is your party, Willium. Anybody else, now?".
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