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Mrs. Wilson turned to the door, wiped her red face on her apron, and finished emptying a pan of hot cookies into the stone crock, before answering, sternly: "No, I'm willin' to shake." Scroggie extended his hand. Her father looked at her with a questioning gaze, but made no remark. Nearly all the talk at that breakfast table was about Nelson and his ships and his pursuit of Villeneuve, but shortly before the three arose the conversation had been deflected by a remark of Lucy, on which the Admiral said: "If this breeze holds we shall be heaving the Minorca into sight the day after to-morrow, or at latest the following day. There can be no doubt that the schooner is fair in her wake. The Whitby brig seems to have steered a straight course from her to us; and now, sir, Lord Nelson's remark comes home: we are unarmed. The barque carries four guns with which she can pelt us without our being able to make a reply.[Pg 406] If she wings us she will escape, and since she will very well know who we are that are in pursuit of her, is my son likely to proceed to Rio? Will he not take advantage of our being crippled to shift his course, and go away to some place, unconjecturable by us, where he will be able to communicate with his scoundrel friend at Rio and the Don with the long name who is to have the management of the nefarious business?".

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"Go outside," he whispered. "Please do; I kin stand anythin', but I don't want you to see it." His face had brightened at the sound of her laughter. Now he patted her hand, as his eyes sought the window. Perhaps the old songs would come back even as the laughter had come and surprise him. Perhaps she was forgetting Stanhope. But no, much as he desired that this should be, he knew her too well for that. The door opened and her husband entered. He cast a quick, apprehensive glance at his wife, and the low whistle died on his lips as he passed over to the long roller towel hanging above the wash-bench and proceeded to dry his hands. Come, let us be glad—both togither, me lad—.