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Her lips tightened. Her hands unclenched and gripped the table as she slowly arose. "Why, there he is now," she cried, glancing through the window. "Maurice isn't with him, though. I know that old punt as far as I can see it. I must get the potatoes and bacon on; he'll be hungry as a bear." "I first of all wish you to understand," continued Mr Lawrence, "that Miss Acton and I are in love with each other. We desire to be married. Captain Acton objects on the grounds of what I am forced to term my poverty; and certainly this quarter-deck would not know my tread if I were not poor. At the same time the greatest esteem and friendship exists between Captain Acton and myself, and his regard for me is sufficiently expressed by his placing me in command here. Do you follow me, sir?".

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"How sits the wind?" enquired Captain Acton, who being used to his daughter's occasional absence took no particular interest in her failure that morning to attend the breakfast table. The several long perpendicular lines were possibly intended to represent the forest, but what was meant by the two vertical lines and the crosses directly beneath them Maurice did not know. Also there was a crudely drawn circle and, inside it, a small square. Maybe this was supposed to represent a hollow stump with a squirrel-trap in it, thought the perplexed Maurice. With a sigh of disgust he turned the paper over. Then his eyes brightened. Written there in Billy's cramped hand were these words and characters: "I cannot, madam." Like most sailors of his time Mr Lawrence possessed the instinct of superstition, a quality or element which has contributed the most brilliant of the rays to the glory of the[Pg 322] romance of the sea. He was sensible of an emotion of awe as he watched Lucy bowing to and addressing a royal apparition so well known to him as the Sailor Prince whose viewless eye might be upon him, whose invisible ear might be taking in his story whilst the wild-haired girl bowed apparently to the bulkhead or addressed the thin air..