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"I do, sir." "I am his father, my lord," replied Sir William with a low bow, of which the gravity that coloured it was very intelligible to Captain Acton and Lucy. Half an hour later he came out upon the lake shore. Quickly he scraped together a pile of drift wood. He applied a match to it and as fire leaped up stood frowning across the water. Then, as an answering light flashed from some distance out in the lake, he sighed in relief and seating himself on the sand lit his pipe. After a time the sound of oars fell on his ears. A boat scraped on the beach. Two men stepped from it and approached the fire..
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Conrad
Anson reflected, shuddering as a long low wail came from the forest. "What were the characters which could convince so shrewd and intelligent a man as Mr Lawrence that you were mad?" enquired Captain Acton, the habitual gravity of whose face was replaced by a constant expression of astonishment. "Or a fist in the daylight," grinned Maurice. "Well, never mind, Anse," he said consolingly, "you've got one good eye left, but somethin' tells me you won't have it long." He ceased speaking and drew himself up slowly, pursing his stern lips. "That is all I have to say for the time being," he said. "We shall endeavor to air this building, after which we will form classes. Will the fat boy with the rumpled hair and dirty neck, the one who is whispering to the boy behind him, be good enough to step forward?".
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