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"Hey? Oh, all right, all right. Stanhope's a fine youngster, but poor, poor.",

She had no intention of crossing the river by the ferry to gain the pier. When Mr Lawrence had advanced well ahead, she intended to resume the road he was taking and go home. Her mind, however, was occupied by him, and yonder, lying at the wharves, was the Minorca, of which she understood he was to receive the[Pg 47] command. She walked towards the vessel; she supplied an object for the little excursion, and the walk would give Mr Lawrence time enough to put the necessary distance between them. The river widened rapidly when it passed under the bridge. The smooth water at the mouth of it reflected the chequered band of the Saucy brig-of-war. Two or three smacks were hoisting their coloured canvas and sailing out to sea. On either hand the banks of the ravine sloped, well dressed in shrubs and wood, and here and there stood a little house. Some small boats lay in black specks away out between the two Heads fishing. Business was not very brisk in the Harbour just then, and the wharves were quiet. They were three; each of well-pitched timber long enough to supply berths stem and stern to two or three small vessels apiece. They were backed by a row of warehouses, some of which were Captain Acton's, and in these were stowed the rum, sugar, and tobacco which his two ships brought from the West Indies.,

"Wounded whistlers aren't as hard to retrieve as redhead or bluebill," said Stanhope.,

A blue-jay and a yellow-hammer flashed by him, side by side, racing for the grubbing-fields of the soft woods below, their blue and yellow bodies marking twin streaks against the hazy light. Blue and yellow, truly the most wonderful colors of all the colorful world, thought Billy. The scene faded and in its place grew up a face with blue, laughing eyes and red, smiling lips, above which gleamed a halo of spun gold. Then the woodland picture swam back before him and the squirrel, which with the characteristic patience of its kind had waited to watch this boy who often threw it a nut-kernel, called after him chidingly as he dipped down into the valley.

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"It's Croaker," Billy whispered. "Stand right still, Lou, an' we'll watch an' find out what his game is.",

He glanced around in search of the boy. "Why, bless my soul, he's gone!" he exclaimed. "There's a youngster you'll need to watch close, teacher," he said grimly.,

Through the dusky twilight, soft with woodland dews and sweet with odor of ferns and wild flowers, Billy walked slowly. For the first time in long days his heart felt at peace. The canker of loneliness that had gnawed at his spirit was there no longer. It was a pretty good old world after all.,

He bowed with the vehemence of a man who butts at another, struck the floor hard with his staff, and rolled out on legs that showed themselves more expeditious than his years seemed to promise.