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On this Captain Acton and his friend went on deck. The schooner was travelling three or four knots one way, and the stranger was heading directly for her at some small pace, so that the speed of the two vessels being combined, the sail might be expected to show a clear hull; which she did, and with the aid of their telescopes, Captain Acton and Sir William confirmed the conjecture of Captain Weaver. She was either a little brig or a brigantine—her after-sails were concealed; her burden was very small. The dusty and rusty complexion of her canvas neutralised the brilliance which most ships' sails shine with when the silver glory of the morning sun pours strong upon them. By half-past nine, three bells by the schooner's clock, the stranger was on the larboard-bow with her main topsail to the mast, and so close that it seemed almost possible to distinguish the faces of her people.,

"Send George at once," said Captain Acton, "with the gig as fast as the mare can trot to Captain Weaver. He must call at his house first—the Paragon out of Lower Street. If not at home, he must find out where he is, and drive him back here with express orders from me that I must see him without loss of an instant's time.",

That evening, as he drove the cattle down along the Causeway for water he met two teams of horses hauling loads of greasy-looking timbers and black, oily pipes. The men who drove the teams were strangers to him. Scroggie, or Heir Scroggie, as he was now commonly called in the neighborhood, sat beside the driver of one of the wagons.,

"Then, here's fer it, but I must say I'll be glad when the job's done," shivered Maurice, following his chum into the blackness of the root-house.

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Sunset was streaking the pine tops with spun gold and edging the gorgeous fabric with crimson ribbons; the big lake lay like an opal set in coral. Fishermen Shipley and Sward, seated on the bow of their old fish-boat, were idly watching the scene when Billy Wilson approached, hands in pockets and gravely surveyed them.,

"Anse," Billy's voice was sympathetic. "I see I have to tell you everythin'. Ma, she's goin' fo give you the canin' of your young life, jest as soon as she thinks we're proper asleep.",

"Still begging of your honours' pardon," said Captain Weaver, "suppose the Minorca do back her topsail and we launch our boat; Mr Lawrence makes out his father and Captain Acton in the starn sheets. Will he stay to receive ye? Won't he fill on his topsail and be off?",

"Oh, hello," he whispered, coldly. He was irritated at such unwarranted interruption of his soul-feast. He settled low in his seat and pretended to give his attention to the teacher, Cobin Keeler.