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Maurice scratched his head in perplexity. "Wonder where he's takin' Dad? It's too late fer sheep-shearin' an' too early fer hog-killin'; an' that's 'bout all Dad's good at doin', 'cept leadin' the singin' at prayer-meetin'. Wonder what's up? Gee! the deacon is sure puttin' his old mare over the road." "I have heard nothing of her, sister. Nobody saw her on the wharf at the time the Minorca sailed, and there was plenty about, labourers ashore, and sailors in the ships." His brother hung his head. "You needn't go to rubbin' it in," he whined; "I didn't have no chance with him. He piled on me from behind, when I wasn't lookin'.".

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"Why, to be sure," said the lieutenant, laughing also, "you have a very slaving, piratical look. Who would expect to find a British Admiral aboard so rakish a craft?" "He must go to the dogs," continued the Admiral, "if he lingers on in this neighbourhood. He can get nothing to do here, and idleness brings with it the temptation of drink. I hear of him at 'The Swan.' There he meets Lieutenant Tupman, and they grow merry together, God wot! over recollections. I wish he had Tupman's berth: a cabbage garden and a cottage and a pig-sty, and a gun-brig that is never ready. I wonder the Admiralty keep up this farce of gun-brigs stationed on the coast to guard against what they are never prepared for." "But a small bit av a chune, Billy. A bit av a lilt on me whistle, now." He placed his hand on Billy's shoulder, and turned once again toward the bay. "I am blind," he said, softly, "but I can tell you how it looks across yonder. There's a white splash of water between deep shadows, and there's just a faint tinge of crimson above the tree-tops. The mist is rising off the marsh; the fire-flies are playing cross-tag above the cat-tails. The light-house—".