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His lordship bowed: upon which the Admiral and Captain Acton paid him the homage of their hats in a well-accentuated flourish of courtesy, for not only was Lord Garlies a brave man and a fine seaman: he was the son of an earl and heir to a title which made a[Pg 426] claim that in its way was not less irresistible in 1805 than it may be found a hundred years later. Mrs. Wilson subsided at last and wiped her eyes on her apron. Then she took Billy's face between her hands and kissed him on the freckled nose. "I know how much you miss your own Ma, Willium," she said, "and I know I kin never take her place, but I love you, an' it worries me awful to think anythin' might happen to you." "Well, hang to 'em tight till we get away from this ha'nted grove. Ghosts don't mind rain none—an' he's liable t' be prowlin' out. Say, can't y' whistle a bit, so's it won't be so pesky lonesome?".

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"I assure you, sir," said Mr Lawrence, with a smile which added a freshness to his beauty by that light, "that I have no idea of taking command of your ship with a view to a French prison." "Not in the Harbour!" cried Miss Acton. "Good gracious, has she sunk, do you think?" "The British stage misses a splendid figure, a shining light, in your neglect of it, madam," said the Admiral. "Plase God," murmured Harry, "but ut's meself 'll be glad to lave this awful spot; lead on, Billy.".