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At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the bustling entrance of Admiral Sir William Lawrence, when of course the conversation was immediately changed from the subject of his son and sick-bays to other matters. In some strokes of this character he might have indeed believed that she was merely acting, but other features had impressed him to such a degree that, though he was determined—not yet, perhaps—to accept the suspicion, or the persuasion of his own opinion, he, behind the darkest curtains of his heart, felt a fear that his stratagem would force her reason from her brain, that she would go mad when she clearly understood that the ship was bound to Rio to be feloniously sold there, when she realised that she had been ruthlessly torn from her father, from her home, and all that she loved, and that her name must ever bear the stain, happen what might, of Mr Lawrence's ignoble feat of abduction. "No," said Billy, "I got to be movin' on.".

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"Good-bye, Sir William," said Lucy, and in silence the two gentlemen watched her walk to the gate and pass out. "Course we got real scared then—leastwise Johnston thought we was—an' Jim he ups an' tells him that we fergot to latch the gate an' let the horse out. Then Johnston got real mean—meaner than I ever see him get, an' that's sayin' quite a lot. He said he would turn back with us an' interview—that's the word he used, whatever it means—interview our fathers. And the worthy old sailor chuckled heartily from his throat to the bottom of his waistcoat. "By-and-by," said he, "go in and clear the mess up. Take no notice of her, nor heed her if she speaks. Then fetch the mattress from the upper bunk in my cabin and place it on her bedstead.".