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This young lady was Lucy, the only child of Captain Acton, one of the most charming, indeed one of the most beautiful girls of her time. The scene of garden and flower-beds quaintly shaped, and the backing of the noble, mellow, gleaming building with its pediment and symbolic carvings, was enchantingly in keeping with the figure and appearance of the girl, who by the magic of her looks and attire instantly transformed it into a picture charged with the colours of youth and health and a sweet and delicate spirit of life. Her apparel was prettily of the time: a straw hat, the brim projecting a little over the forehead and seated somewhat on one side, a plain light blue gown and long yellow silk gloves. The gown was without waist and bound under the bosom by a girdle. Her hair this day was dressed in tresses which hung around the face—not curls, but tender shadings of hair, as though the effect had been contrived by the fingers of the wind; but some curls reposed on her neck. Her eyes were unusually large, of a dark brown and full of liquid light. The eyelids were somewhat heavy, and looked the heavier because of their rich furniture of eyelash. The eyelashes indeed suggested at first sight that she doctored her eyes, as do actresses[Pg 20] and others; but a brief inspection satisfied the beholder that all was Nature transparent, artless, and lovely. A conspicuous charm in Lucy Acton was her colour: her cheeks always wore a natural bloom or glow; this, as in the case of her eyes, might have been suspected as the effect of art, but she blushed so readily, even sometimes on any effort of speech, the damask of her blood so wrought in her cheek on any impulse of mood or humour, that it was quickly seen the mantling glow was a charm of Nature's own gift. No girl could have been more natural, and few more beautiful than Lucy Acton. Had she lived half a century earlier she would have been one of the toasts of the nation.,

"You're right, he is. Well, what's he goin' to do now? He can't work, kin he?",

He listened, then knocked, knocked again, and receiving no reply, inserted the key, turned the handle and entered. This was the berth set aside for the Captain, though as a matter of fact in Merchant vessels the Captain used to occupy almost invariably the aftermost starboard berth. It was plainly, but comfortably, furnished, the bedstead was like those ashore, and such as in former times Spanish ships chiefly were equipped with. It had a chest of drawers and a washstand in combination, and a table in the middle, at which sat Miss Lucy Acton. Her hands were clasped before her and rested on the table. She shot a swift glance under her beautiful eyelids at the incomer, then looked down upon her hands with a gaze which for motionlessness might have been riveted, though nothing was to be seen of her eyes under their lovely drooping clothing of lids and lashes. She was plainly dressed in a gown whose waist was just under her bosom. In some such a gown, or in some such attire she was wont of an early spring or summer morning to amuse herself in the flower gardens, or to take walks, occasionally remaining to[Pg 249] breakfast at some poor neighbour's house. The only conspicuous feature of her apparel was a hat lately introduced from Paris and much affected by the fashionable ladies of London and other parts of this country. I speak of it as a hat: it was in truth a jockey-bonnet made of lilac-coloured silk decorated in front with a bunch of fancy flowers, and on top was a lace veil that hung gracefully down the back.,

For half an hour they groped their way forward, no further words passing between them. The heavy roar of the rain on the tree tops made conversation next to impossible. The darkness was so dense they were forced to proceed slowly and pause for breath after bumping violently against a tree or sapling. They had been striving for what seemed to both to be a long, long time to find the clearing when Billy paused in his tracks and spoke: "It's no use, Maurice. We're lost."

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Billy braced himself and took a long breath. "We've made up our minds t' find old man Scroggie's will," he said.,

"I wish you had licked him harder 'n you did," frowned Billy.,

"Well, what is it, then? Who sent you? Come now, out with it quick, or I'll take a tarred rope-end to you.",

"But Dad don't need it," Jim declared. "He's rich now."