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"Faith," sighed Harry, "ut's meself is willin' to be riskin' a little in return fer a bite to eat, fer it's fastin' long I've been an' as impty as a church, I am.",

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.,

Was it possible that Lucy's situation had driven her out of her mind? Her behaviour throughout the day had been extraordinary. Features of character had appeared in her in the extravagance of her moods and humours which he never could have conceived would, though latent and demanding the summons of insanity to become visible, have formed a part of her nature. She, the gentle, the sweet, the refined, the tender, the sympathetic had exhibited even coarseness. Could she be mad, and yet slumber so soundly? How do the insane sleep?,

"An' when'll that be, Harry?"

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"Supposin' I said the snake killed the hawk?",

It would have been difficult to tell what was[Pg 304] in Mr Lawrence's mind as he stood viewing Paul for some moments in silence, after that arched-legged hunchback had ceased. He said in a voice without a tremor, in tones as steady and collected as those in which he would ask a man how he was or bid him good-morning: "Have you ever met with mad people?",

"No, surface.",

"We wondered what kept you fellers, so came lookin' fer you," spoke Tom Holt as they came up. "Thought you'd be comin' by the tamarack swamp trail, an' we stuck around there fer quite a while, waitin'. Then Elgin said maybe you had come the ha'nted house way, so we struck through the bush an' tried to pick up your trail. Once we thought we saw the ghost, but it turned out to be old Ringold's white yearlin' steer. It had rubbed up ag'inst some will-o-the-wisp fungus an' it fair showered sparks of blue fire. If we hadn't heered it bawlin' we'd have run sure."