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All sail was immediately made on the schooner. And with a fine dancing motion thrown into her by the swell, her coppered sides slipped nimbly through the water, graced by the frolic of foam sheared out of the feathering ripples by the sharp stem.,

Well, the Louisa Ann backed her topsail, and the strangely rigged ship backed her's, and the master of the brig, not choosing to ask too many favours at once, hailed to know if she could spare some fresh water, as they had run to an allowance that was close upon famine. He was received on board by a tall, commanding, handsome man, who, on the arrival of the master of the Louisa Ann, said he was[Pg 357] welcome to a supply of fresh water, and that in return he would ask him to receive a young lady who had gone mad during the voyage from England, and convey her to that country. Her name was Miss Acton. She was a daughter of Captain Acton of Old Harbour Town, and the captain of the Louisa Ann might make sure of a handsome reward for his services from the father. The lady, the tall, handsome man said, had consented to elope with him, and they were to be married at Rio de Janeiro; but she had gone out of her mind. The fine, handsome man felt he could do nothing better than to restore her as soon as possible to her friends. The captain of the brig said that he had but a poor accommodation for a lady of her quality, but wanting the fresh water very badly and likewise reflecting that he might receive a handsome reward, and learning from the fine, handsome man that Miss Acton was by no means violent, but on the contrary gentle and melancholy, he consented.,

"The last we spoke," answered the man,[Pg 354] "was the day before yesterday. And we took out of her by request of her master, a young female who was said to have gone mad, but for my part I never met with anybody saner. She's an additional mouth, and a cask of beef would be grateful.",

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?

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"That's neither here ner there," she snapped. "He doesn't seem to care what harm he does. An' the hard part of it is," she burst out, "I can't take no pleasure in whalin' him same as I might if I was his real mother; I jest can't, that's all. He has a way of lookin' at me out'a them big, grey eyes of his'n—",

"Joe, I'm ashamed of you," chided the white-faced deacon. "Come along to my house, all of you, and I'll have wife make us a strong cup of tea.",

He glanced at the window. It was raised but a few inches; exit was effectively closed in that direction. He made up his mind to reach for his hat and walk with dignity from the class, the church and those soulless, sinister-faced people who watched and waited gloatingly for his downfall. No, there was still a better plan. He would stagger and grope his way out like one who had been suddenly stricken with sickness. Yes, that was what he would do.,

But Billy gazed dully at the treasure with sinking heart and murmured: "You danged old humbug, you!" Croaker was surprised, indignant, hurt. He reached down and struck one of the shiniest of the bottles with his beak but even the happy tinkle that ensued failed to rouse enthusiasm in his master.