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"Yes.",

"What beats all my goin' a-fishing," said Mr Thomas Pledge in a voice which, in spite of its being subdued, and in spite of the noises of the wind aloft, and of waters washing along the bends yearning and seething, was distinctly audible to Mr Lawrence as he stood in the shelter of the companion-way, "is this: this 'ere ship belongs to Captain Acton. His purchase of her was square and above-board.[Pg 300] Why should he go behind his own back, in a manner of speaking, and put a man that was an officer in the Royal Navy in charge to carry her to a port, and sell her by stealth, as though she was a piece of plunder, and the officer in charge ordered to 'and her over to a fence, which, John, as of course you know, is the vulgar name for a man as receives stolen goods? Why is the crew kept in ignorance of Captain Acton's intention? There's no 'arm in a man a-selling of his own property. But I says there is a good deal of 'arm in a man deceiving of sailors for making them an offer to do something which he don't rightfully explain, and which they'd decline to undertake if they'd been told the nature of it.",

"No," said Hinter, startled at the directness of look and question. "I don't know.",

"Captain Acton wishes to see you at eight o'clock this evening. You'll be there?"

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CHAPTER XVII THE DREAD DAY DAWNS,

Eastward the leaden clouds opened to let an arrow of orange light pierce the damp mists of dawn; then the fissure closed again and tardy daylight disclosed only a dun-colored waste of cowering rushes and tossing water. Far out in the bay a great flock of ducks arose, the beat of their wings growing up above the boom of the wind, stood black against the lowering skies an instant, then swept like a gigantic shadow close down above the curling water. Here and there detached fragments of the flock grew up and drifted shoreward. A flock of widgeon, gleaming snow-white against the clouds as they swerved in toward the decoys, were joined by a pair of kingly canvasbacks. Swiftly they approached, twisted aside just out of range, and then turned and came in with wings set against the wind.,

Miss Lucy Acton sat with her eyes veiled by downcast lids fixed in a stare as lifeless as the dead upon her hands, which lay clasped in her lap. So motionless was she, you would have said she slept. Much of the lovely bloom that always gave to her lineaments a choice sweetness was absent, but not the less[Pg 281] did as much of her face as was visible express its refined and delicate beauty.,

The thought of Mr Lawrence having received from her father the offer of the command of yonder little ship was put out of Lucy's mind by the image of placid sun-lighted scenery she contemplated, taking full possession of her. Familiar as the picture was, her beautiful eyes, moving slowly, dwelt in their brooding way upon the objects she directed them at, and her native loveliness seemed to gain by the impulse which visited it, and she and the sweet and restful scene of cliff and distant blue water and quiet haven into which the fabrics that floated shook their lights and the delicate tracery of their gear, were blent, and it was as though she was the spirit of the place.