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"What a wicked, dreadful old man!" exclaimed Miss Acton, "to preserve such a[Pg 218] hideous secret, and to be willing to wait for payment of his three hundred pounds out of another man's robbery. What is to be done? What will you do, brother? Our Lucy must be rescued. Is it too late? She was here in this house this morning at seven o'clock. The ship cannot be far off. Cannot she be reached?",

The new teacher paid no attention to the little scrimmage between LaRose and Billy. He stood on the platform, tall, spare, hard-featured and stern, and let his black eyes bore into the souls of the pupils, one after the other. Not until the silence of suspense was almost unbearable did he speak; then clearing his throat he gave forth in stern tones the following edict:,

"Well, if we take a look over the place in daylight we'll know the lay-out better at night, won't we? Trigger Finger Tim did that most times, an' he always got away clean. Supposin' a ghost is close at your heels, ain't it a good idea to have one or two good runways picked out to skip on? We're goin' through that ha'nted house in daylight, so you might as well make up your mind to that.",

Captain Acton paused for a few moments at the foot of the companion ladder with a grave smile on his face.

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"Give her a good breeze and she can find her legs, but she ain't to be compared with the Aurora.",

Meanwhile, Lucy crossing the bridge pursued the road to Old Harbour Town. She walked up an incline as gradual and pleasant as the lane which had brought her to the river. The hedges on either side stood thick, and the road was sentinelled by trees which when robed in their foliage transformed a long space of it into a beautiful avenue. The way took her straight to Lower Street, at the corner of which stood "The Swan" Tavern, a posting-house with a signboard that swang rustily through the long dark night, but behind its little lower windows a glimpse of old-world comfort could be caught: a sanded floor, a dark-polished table ringed with impressions of immemorial mugs of ale set down upon it, a little grate high perched in a setting of china, an old Dutch clock, and a black-board for the score.,

Mrs. Wilson pushed back her chair and arose from the table. "Now, then, Willium, you get along out. I've got a whole lot to do afore supper-time, and I guess maybe you best run across and ask Mrs. Keeler to come over and help me. You kin go 'round and give the invites to your friends.",

He looked at his own legs. Time had somewhat shrunk them.