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"Gollies!" exulted Maurice. Then uncertainty in his tones, "A feller 'ud have to be a mighty good shot to do that though, Bill.",
"Aw, say, Bill," protested Maurice, "I'm tired an' wet as a water-logged plank. Let her go. I'll tell Dad, an' he kin come after her tomorrow.",
"And you've found the condition too difficult; isn't that so?" he asked.,
"Who are you, anyway?" asked Scroggie as he got groggily to his feet.
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Amongst those who just then were standing upon the quay-side gazing with more or less of interest at the Minorca and the other vessels moored to the walls, was old Mr Greyquill, whose figure was immediately [Pg 107]conspicuous by reason of his long white hair and heavily white thatched eyebrows. And this day he wore a round velvet cap such as might have been suggested to him by a portrait by some old Flemish artist, and a velvet coat. He stood on the wharf a few paces behind some people who formed a little group, and peered at the Minorca with the sharp of his hand pressed against his brow seeking to determine the faces he saw on board. He was too far off to recognise the Admiral and Captain Acton, who now appeared, but the moment Mr Lawrence's head was visible above the bulwark-rail he knew him, and seemed to try to catch his eye, but Lawrence, who instantly perceived him, averted his gaze or turned his back, and after steadily staring for some moments under the shelter of his hand the old fellow shuffled off.,
Wilson whistled softly. "You don't say!" he managed to articulate. "Why, Mary, it's a pipe!",
The boat drew alongside, but not until the[Pg 445] arrangement of plank and mattress upon which lay Mr Lawrence had been swayed over the rail of the schooner, and softly and tenderly lowered on to the deck, did she know that the sick man in the ship's litter was the lover whose passion for her had defied the gibbet in its unscrupulous, reckless, daring, headlong determination to achieve.,
Mrs. Keeler broke in. "Anson, humph! Why, that boy had the nerve to say that I should give him ten cents fer watchin' the kettle while them two dear boys was out in the storm, huntin' fer Pa's sow. I give him a box on the ear instead an' sent him home on the jump. Maybe I was a bit hasty but I was mad after havin' to give that old Caleb Spencer a piece of my mind fer sendin' me sawdust instead of groceries. I guess he won't try that ag'in."
"But unarmed, Fellowes, unarmed!" exclaimed the Admiral. "You won't want to see our papers, will ye?"
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Sunday-night prayer meeting was just over. The worshippers had gone from the church in twos and threes. Deacon Ringold had remained behind to extinguish the church lights and lock up. As he stepped from the porch into the shadows along the path, a small hand gripped his arm.
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"All right," gruffly assented his companion, "if you're so cock sure, it suits me all right. Come on; let's get out of this cussed woods. Remember we've got some work before us tonight."
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"My love," said Captain Acton, "will you tell me how it happened that you should have allowed yourself to be lured on board the Minorca?"
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>Shortly after midnight he softly turned the key in Lucy's door and looked in, and deeming that she lay asleep he passed in, closing the door behind him, that the roll of the ship might not slam the door and awaken the sleeper. The light was dim, but sufficiently clear for[Pg 306] eyes that had come out of the gloom or darkness. A mattress lay upon the deck close against the bedstead, which was emptied of its furniture, and upon this mattress was stretched the figure of Lucy Acton. She was fully dressed as in the day, save that she had removed her jockey-shaped hat. The bolster from the bedstead supported her head. Some of her dark hair had become disengaged and lay loosely about her cheek, giving the purity of marble to her brow in that light, and her sleep was so deep that she lay as though dead. On the deck close beside her grasp was a common table knife.
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