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Sir William laughed.,

"You kin?" Jim exclaimed. "Well, I'll be razzle-dazzled!",

"So, I don't shoot partridge neither," said Billy. "I don't blame anybody else fer shootin' 'em, remember, but somehow, I'd rather leave 'em alive.",

"Gosh," cried Elgin Scraff, "there goes the bell! Come on everybody; let's get our medicine."

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Billy caught his breath quickly and a glad smile drove the shadow from his face. "Canvasbacks!" he murmured, "They've come early. I bet anythin' the flocks I heard comin' in through the night was canvasbacks, too—an' redhead! I must go right over after breakfast an' tell Teacher Stanhope; he'll be sure to say 'Let's go get 'em.' Oh, gee!",

He was Mr Walter Lawrence, a son of Admiral Lawrence, and down to a recent period a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. He was something over thirty years of age, but drink, dissipation, the hard life of the sea and some fever which had got into his blood and proved intermittent, had worked in his face like time, and he might have passed for any age between thirty-five and forty-five. Nevertheless he was an extremely handsome man, of the classic Greek type in lineament, but improved, at least to the British eye, by the Saxon colouring of hair, skin, and eyes. His teeth were extraordinarily white and good for a sailor who had lived on gun-room fare in times when the ship's biscuit was flint, and the peas which rolled about in the discoloured hot water called soup, fit only for loading a blunderbuss with to shoot men dead. His eyes told their tale of drink, but they were large and fine and spirited; his light brown hair, according to the fashion of[Pg 39] the age, was combed down his back and lay in a rope-shaped tail there. He wore a wide-brimmed round hat, and his attire, a little the worse for wear, consisted of a blue coat, white waistcoat, sage-green kerseymere breeches, and, needless to say, the cravat was high and full. He stood about six feet, his figure was extremely well proportioned, and in addition to these merits his carriage had the easy elegance which the flow of the billow and the heave of the deck infuse into all human figures not radically vile and deformed. His voice was soft, winning, and somewhat plaintive, and no man, whether on or off the stage, not even Incledon, sang a song with more exquisite feeling and sweeter sincerity of passion.,

"He's awful mad," grinned Billy. "He's been keepin' this find to himself fer a long time." At sound of his master's voice Croaker paused in his harangue and promptly changed his tactics. He swooped down to Billy's shoulder and rubbed the top of his glossy head against the boy's cheek, whispering low and lying terms of endearment.,

"Who said that?" shouted Mr Lawrence, with the blood red in his face.