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"You are quite right," said Captain Weaver. "Guns would only be in our way, and sarve to check the beauty, which we don't want." "I consider Cochrane possesses all the potentialities of Nelson. Then gallant old Jervis"—the Admiral interrupted himself and gazed with an arch leer at his companion. "Oh, I have no taste for acting. I have no ambition to be an actress. This effort was forced upon me. How was I to disgust him, sir?".

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Erie clasped her hands in ecstasy at sight of the wild ducks. "Oh, aren't they lovely!" she cried. "Put them in the ice-house, Daddy, until Billy starts for home." Close to lay the gun-brig reflecting her white band broken by ports in the calm surface. She looked to be ready for sea; all her yards were across, the white sails furled with that exquisite finish which expresses the pat of the man-o'-warsman's hand; but there was nobody visible aboard of her. Beyond, the eye went to the short length of timber pier, and on this side of it to some smacks which now floated at little buoys or at their own anchors, though at ebb of tide Old Harbour was mainly mud[Pg 29] with the river's bed in the middle and vessels lying high, black and gaunt in several postures, whilst out in the south the ripple of the sea in smooth weather streamed to and fro with long lashings of black weed, and the air was salt and nimble with the smell of marine growths. "Your honours," said Captain Weaver, "I am greatly mistaken if Mr Lawrence don't prove one of the hardest and most difficult skippers that ever took command of a ship. He'll get his way, though it should come to his[Pg 232] sending balls to do it through the brains of those who try to stop him." Mr Lawrence reflected as though mentally gauging depth of hold and breadth of beam, and answered, "I think when flush she should hold six hundred tons.".