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"And you made Mr Lawrence afraid of you?" said Sir William.,

Captain Acton started from a reverie and looked at her attentively.,

Captain Weaver believed that the vessel was the Minorca: because, first, she carried royals; next, because she happened to be where she was; third, the leisureliness with which the Aurora rose her seemed to prove that her pace was that of the barque. But the dusk drew round; the gloom of night came along in that thickness of shadow which under such heights as the Aurora was then sailing, seemed swift to persons accustomed to the northern twilights. And at the hour in which the shades of the coming night had with their viewless fingers effaced the stranger from the sight of the Aurora, and shaken some stars into their places, the sail had been risen by the Aurora,[Pg 414] till on the heave of the swell her hull to the height of her bulwarks from the edge of the sea was visible. And then she was steeped in darkness.,

Billy braced himself. At the same time he caught a glimpse of Anson's leering face and inwardly vowed that that young man should have plenty of reason to regret that leer.

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"My name is Stanhope; Frank Stanhope.",

He paused and searched the girl's face. "You see, Erie," he said slowly, "I'd been tellin' Mr. Maddoc all about how Hinter an' Scroggie had been tryin' to find water fer us, an' how they had had a barrel of oil explode, an' every thin'. Somehow he didn't seem a bit like a stranger. I didn't mind tellin' him at all. Why, I even told him about the Twin Oaks store robbery, an' about Hinter wantin' to get hold of Lost Man's Swamp, an' everythin'.,

Sir William Lawrence was very grave, his looks were stern, almost fierce, as he entered the boat. Captain Acton was cool and thoughtful. His brow was knitted; his lips were set. His demeanour was that of a self-possessed man confronted by a condition of things rendered complex by features extraneous to the main trouble or difficulty, yet confounding it by their existence. Lucy watched the scene from the after-part of the Aurora's quarterdeck. She stood alone in that part of the ship leaning upon the rail, and once or twice her gaze followed the boat that was bearing her father and the Admiral to the Minorca; but it was chiefly directed at the[Pg 434] barque whose length she explored for a sight of the tall figure whom she had immediately recognised as Mr Lawrence, whilst Sir William was surveying his son through his glass. She mused upon the amazing passage of her life that had filled the interval between the time of her going on board yonder ship, believing her father to be lying dangerously injured in her, down to the hour of her transference to the Whitby brig. Never was her pensive beauty more fascinating than now, whilst her soft dark eyes brooded upon the ship that had been her floating prison. What would Mr Lawrence say or think when he came to understand that her madness was feigned, a dramatic stratagem to obtain liberty and restoration? How would he—but how could he—face his father whom he had degraded, and her father whom he had robbed and wronged?,

"The Army!" he cried. "Could you put a greater indignity upon a sailor than to compel him to shoulder a handspike and march up and down as though he were a soldier?"