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"Oh, Captain Weaver, there are many wicked people at sea!" cried Miss Acton. "Think of the pirates! Think of the slavers! My poor, poor niece!",

After all fall had its compensations. Glorious days beneath lowering skies in a wind-whipped blind were before him; stormy days when the ducks would sweep in to his decoys and his old "double-barrel" would take toll. If only Frank Stanhope was to be the teacher instead of that cold-eyed, mean looking Johnston. He knew he would not get along with Johnston. And school was to open on Monday. Great Scott! The very thought made him shiver.,

She took the flower, put it to her lips, and handed it to him. His passion for her was very visible as he received the flower with his eyes fixed upon her face. He gave her a low bow, and then put on his hat, and going to the hedge pulled a leaf in which he wrapped[Pg 45] the daisy, and carefully placed both in his waistcoat pocket.,

"Fine," commended Billy. "A cold like that oughta be good fer half the hoarhound, anyway. Let's go in afore the thing wears off. You take the basket, I'll carry the kindlin' fer you."

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As Lucy advanced holding her dog lest[Pg 49] the creature should skip in a fit of excitement into the water, the man viewed her as though on catching her eye, or receiving the encouragement of a look of recognition, he was prepared to salute her. Perhaps she did not heed him, but on drawing close to the vessel, she looked at him, and thanks to that gracious gift which by creating opportunities for tact, helps more to render the individual beloved or popular than perhaps any other quality, she immediately recollected the man, and not only the man, but his name, as Mr John Eagle, mate of the Minorca, who, when the vessel was last in harbour and she had gone on board of her with her father, had been introduced to her by Captain Acton.,

Neither Captain Acton nor Miss Acton witnessed anything strange in the absence of Lucy from the breakfast table. She was in the habit of taking these early walks, and would often turn into a cottage whose inmates she well knew and breakfast with the occupants, enjoying more the egg warm from the nest, the home-cured rasher of bacon, the pot of home-made jam, the slice of brown bread and sweet butter, the bowl of new milk, or the cup of tea which on such grand occasions would be introduced by her humble friends, than the choicest dainties which her father's cook could send to the breakfast table at Old Harbour House.,

Wilson, striving to keep his face grave, nodded. "That's how it's been, I guess, Mary. He kin no more help pickin' up every snake and animal he comes across then he kin help breathin'. But he don't mean any harm, Billy don't.",

Five minutes later the trio were out on the forest path, passing in Indian file towards the haunted grove. The wind had risen and now swept through the great trees with ghostly sound. A black cloud, creeping up out of the west, was wiping out the stars. Throughout the forest the notes of the night-prowlers were strangely hushed. No word was spoken between the treasure-seekers until the elm-bridged creek was reached. Then old Harry paused, with labored breath, his head bent as though listening.