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CHAPTER VIII LUCK RIDES THE STORM Beneath the shadow of the coming storm the forest gloom deepened to velvet blackness. Suddenly a tongue of lightning licked the tree-tops and a crash of thunder shattered the stillness. A few heavy rain-drops spattered on the branches above the heads of the waiting three. Billy and Maurice, a strange terror tugging at their heart-strings, waited for old Harry to give the word forward. But Harry seemed to be in no great hurry to voice such command. Fear had gripped his superstitious soul and the courage loaned him from the squat demijohn was fast oozing away. "Were you here when Mr Lawrence shot himself?" exclaimed Captain Acton to the hunchback Paul, who cowered in his corner with white cheeks and terrified looks..

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"I have!" cried the delighted lawyer, "and whether he left you much or little nobody can dispute your claim. Young man, shake hands again!" Mr Lawrence's face lighted up, but the expression was curious; it was composite; it seemed to be lacking in the elementary quality[Pg 58] of exultation or rejoicing which naturally would have been sought for or expected. So saying, and evidently not much impressed by meeting an Admiral of whom he had never heard in a schooner that looked uncommonly like a slaver or a pirate, the[Pg 396] lieutenant disappeared, and a moment or two after, the frigate trimmed sail to rejoin the fleet. "How sits the wind?" enquired Captain Acton, who being used to his daughter's occasional absence took no particular interest in her failure that morning to attend the breakfast table..