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It might be thought that the first person[Pg 420] in the group this gentleman's eyes fastened upon was Lucy. She would be held to appeal in her sweetness, colour, freshness, and youth to a sailor as a nosegay of lovely flowers to a lover of flowers who for months has lived forlorn in a desert of sand. But instead of looking at Lucy, the lieutenant stared at the Admiral with a very great deal of visible speculation in the screwed-up cock of his eye, till his face relaxed with these words: "Pray, sir, did you ever hear of Billy Lawrence?" "I understan'," said Billy, sympathetically. It was Sunday. Anson, with eyes close-shut and suds dripping from his freckled nose, was having his weekly ear and neck cleansing, his mother's strong hands applying the coarse wash-cloth. Billy stood by, anticipating his turn, his eyes straying occasionally to the long "muzzle-loader" hanging on the deer-prong rack. Tomorrow the duck-season opened and he was wondering how he was going to contrive to sneak the old gun down and give it a thorough cleaning. Suddenly he became aware that operations in the vicinity of the wash-basin had become suspended. He glanced across to find his mother's gaze fixed sternly upon him. Anson was looking mightily pleased..

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"Sure," said Maurice. "She'll likely hold somethin' back fer me, anyway. Don't ferget to keep a good fire on, Anse," he admonished, as he followed Billy outside. "I saw the light from my bedroom window,"[Pg 23] said Lucy. "Who chased the Frenchman? Lieutenant Tupman?" "I have followed them to the West Indies," he exclaimed, "with eleven sail of the line, and Villeneuve has eighteen or twenty; but you may tell them at home, if you are returning shortly, that had I fallen in with the French Fleet I should have brought them to action." "I don't shoot quail any more," Billy answered. "I've got to know 'em too well, I guess. You see," in answer to the other boy's look of surprise, "when a feller gets to know what chummy, friendly little beggars they are, he don't feel like shootin' 'em.".