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"Then, sir, our policy will be to thrash on for Rio.",

"Another slice, John!" said Pledge, pushing his plate, and cutting a big chunk from a loaf.,

"Faith, maybe ye did. But last night it's the skies thimselves said 'rain,' an' begorry! there's been not a sign av a shower t'day. What matters ut fer the fallin' av an idle wurrud now and thin? It's meself knows you're too tinder hearted t' refuse a small favor to a body that feels only love an' respect fer yourself an' the swate ones who wait ye in the flower-covered cottage, beyont.",

"Yes," he answered. "I told him that same day. Told him that you said you could never be more to him than what you now are. Why do you ask, Erie?"

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"What's more, Ma, that ol' horse is goin' to stay right where he is, belly-deep in clover, till it gets so cold we'll have to stable him. Then he's goin' to have all the good hay an' oats he wants.",

"The lady thumped and I went to see what was the matter, sir," said Mr Pledge, awed in his old man-o'-war instincts by the over-bearing, I may say, the overwhelming demeanour of Mr Lawrence, which was to his words as the thunder of the explosion is to the message of the firearm.,

"Yes. Oh, I daresay the boy's all right, Benjamin, but he belongs to them Scotians and they're no friends of ourn. I reckon I scared him some when I threatened to give him the rope, eh?",

Lucy had often viewed this scene: her pause now was dictated by a trifling feeling of curiosity. Against the wharves on the left-hand side and over against the stump-ended projection of pier was moored her father's ship the Minorca, of which she had just now been assured Sir William Lawrence's son was to be offered the command. This vessel lay with two or three others, a brig or two and a schooner, at the wharves, and with her own and the drying sails of the others, the tall spars, the yards across, the complicated lines of the rigging, provided a bold and even ample figure of shipping to the eye. But in addition to these there lay in the harbour a number of fishing craft, and this side the extremity of the wharves within musket shot of where Lucy stood was moored the Saucy brig-of-war of about one hundred and eighty tons armed with thirty-two pounder carronades. She was one of a number of the like sort of brig which were to be found in that year (1805) on the coasts of Sussex, Suffolk, and Norfolk. These brigs were usually hauled into creeks or laid up in snug corners where the Lieutenant, as Sir William had pointed out, had his cabbage garden and pig-sty. They were designed as a provision against[Pg 27] the invasion of the French, and were quite worthless, as they were never ready, and always so anchored or so secured as to demand as much time in getting under weigh as would take a French army of invasion to march from Dover to Ashford.