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"I wish you had licked him harder 'n you did," frowned Billy. "A relation, sir?" said the master of the Louisa Ann, addressing Captain Weaver, whom he had immediately perceived was not of the standing of the two Naval gentlemen. They resumed their walk. When they had reached the bridge they found old Mr Greyquill, leaning over the rail, and gazing with intentness, with a sort of lifting leer which could not be defined as a smile, though it was like the shadow of one, in the direction of Old Harbour. This person was not used to address either of the gentlemen on meeting them in the public streets. They were accustomed to nod in silence. But this morning [Pg 175]as the Admiral and the Captain passed him, the Admiral so close as to brush his coat-tail, the old scrivener turned with a rapid motion and exclaimed, still preserving his singular leer: "I beg pardon, gentlemen, but as I fail to see the Minorca amongst the ships, may I enquire if she has sailed?".

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Billy's face cracked into a grin which he was careful to turn from his step-brother. "How'd you like to do all the firin' an' get all the reward, Anse?" he suggested. "I've got a milk-snake here that I want'a get put safe away in the root-house afore Ma takes in the lantern. Maurice'll come along an' help me stow him away." Mr Lawrence was for a few days very uneasy, but uneasy is a mild term to express the state of a man's mind that starts at a look or an exclamation, who fancies he is whispered about when two go past him talking, who expects that every man who approaches him is going to speak to him about the letter he has found, who imagines that every look that his father fastens upon him is a prelude to a tremendous attack, who is willing to attribute the silence of Captain Acton to the consideration of what steps in the face of such an enormity should be taken by him against the son of his old friend Sir William Lawrence. It was late afternoon when Billy stepped into his punt and with swift, strong strokes sent it skimming toward the duck-ponds. At the point where the shore curved abruptly he lifted his hat and waved to the man and girl watching him from the pier. Old Greyquill, trudging on busy in thought with Mr Lawrence's debt, was moved by some idea of the man to look behind him. Mr Lawrence had disappeared. Quite discernible from where Greyquill stood was the sheet of paper Lawrence had let fall. Old Greyquill stopped, peered, reflected that it might be a letter that he himself had unconsciously been toying with and had dropped, or that in some other way had let fall from his pocket. He retraced the few steps that lay between and picked it up, and proceeded with it in one hand, whilst with the other he fumbled for his spectacle-case..