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"I cannot think of anything but sulphur for poor Mr Eagle's feet," said Miss Acton, as she approached father and daughter. "I will give you a packet for him after breakfast.[Pg 76] Is not this a morning to lift up one's heart in rejoicing? How fair is this prospect! How tender and promising this scene of garden! How quiet the old town looks upon the hill! The heart swells in gratitude to God on such a morning as this.",

CHAPTER XI EDUCATING THE NEW BOY,

But congratulations were not in place in such a moment as this. A fine boat of the Aurora was alongside manned by five sailors, who being clad in much the same sort of[Pg 356] apparel, carried a sort of warlike aspect as though the boat was proceeding from something heavily armed and much to be feared. Captain Acton and the Admiral sprang into her with the agility of boys, thanks to the energy infused by the apparition of Lucy waving her pocket-handkerchief, and whilst they were being swept to the brig Captain Weaver asked her master one or two questions.,

"What excuse did Mr Lawrence make to the men for sending you into another ship?"

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"It's awful," said Billy in awed tones. "I got as far as the first pond. It was far enough for me.",

The bright, mild wind came gushing steadily over the bulwark rail; the decks were slightly sloped, and their seams ran black, as defined as the ebony lines ruled by standing rigging in moonshine, and the planks between shone like ivory. On high the heeling structure was a vast surface of canvas, with three square yards at the fore for the fore topsail and topgallant sail, and over the swan-like stem of this American clipper—for a clipper she was—the immensely long bowsprit and jibboom spread the foot of huge triangular wings which gave the hull a grand and noble look forward, as though she was about to spring from the water in the brilliant flash of foam which darted from the wet and metalled fore-foot, to form one of the squadron of cream-coloured clouds royal in their progress with trailing robes of glory.,

"What would they have to say about me?" he exclaimed, with a rather unmeaning smile. "I can believe that Sir William grows weary of my presence, and that he sometimes wishes me at the bottom of the sea. 'Tis a pity that he did so ill in prize money. He was born to no fortune, and married a moneyless lady, and here is my father, an Admiral in the British Navy, obliged to dwell in a cottage fit only to make a dwelling-house for a poet, whose calling is, I believe, the poorest paid of any. I am much troubled," he continued in a maudlin way, "to think that I should continue to be a burthen upon the old gentleman. But I assure you on my honour, madam, if I am[Pg 42] not independent of him this moment 'tis not because I have not been as diligent as Old Nick himself in looking about me. But go where I will and ask where I will, the door is shut, the place is full, the answer is nay. What a sweet little dog is that! How happy to be for ever frisking about you and often lifted and caressed!",

The man waited outside for Mr Lawrence. When he appeared he seized his hand, and fell upon his crooked knees and kissed and slobbered his hand, and blubbered, with tears trickling down his face, "that so help him his good God, come what might he would do anything, no matter what, to serve his honour, he would die for his honour; let his honour command him to jump into the river then and there and drown himself, he'd do it if only to please him." His gestures whilst on his knees, his extraordinary grimaces, the strange, wild terms in which he expressed his pathetic gratitude for this condescension of a gentleman in taking notice of, and rescuing from gaol a poor, pitiful vagabond, a child of the parish,[Pg 119] a no man's son, nor woman's either, a creature who lived he could not tell how, sometimes by stealing a raw vegetable, sometimes by running an errand, sometimes by the bounty of a tradesman who might fling him a crust, or of some drunken fisherman who might toss him a shilling to sing him a song and dance as he sang, a performance so hideously uncouth that Hogarth would have immortalised it could he have witnessed it; his gratitude, in short, was so diverting, at the same time moving in its appeal to pity, that Mr Lawrence could scarcely forbear a laugh, and indeed did laugh when he got rid of the fellow and walked away.