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"The pilot," said Captain Acton, "was John Andrews. Was he on board, do you know?" The remark appeared to impress Captain Acton, who fastened his eyes upon the speaker. "Walk in, Captain Weaver. Pray, take that chair," said Captain Acton. "I can ask you no questions until I make you acquainted with what has happened.".

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The surgeon who stood close, and who had been gazing at the young lady with admiration of her face and charms of figure and wonder at finding so beautiful a girl in a little schooner at sea, exclaimed: "I am surgeon of yonder frigate, madam. This gentleman will not die, provided he is carefully and judiciously nursed." Some thought whilst eating with his father had occurred to him, and he felt in his pocket for the copy of the letter which he had drawn out with his pocket-handkerchief and which Mr Greyquill had got possession of. The handkerchief was there, but the letter was not. When he had drawn out his handkerchief and felt and found the lining of his pocket bare, when, in short, he completely understood that the letter was not where it ought to be and where he knew it should be, he turned as pale as the muslin curtain that partly veiled his[Pg 151] window, started with an abrupt swagger of motion as though he had been struck violently behind, then with the energy of madness felt in all his pockets, pulling out everything, meanwhile gazing around the room with eyes which seemed on fire with their vigour of scrutiny and passion of fear. "And what do dogs and children think of you?" he asked, abruptly. And the worthy old lady's eyes grew dim as she pronounced the words "our Lucy.".