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It has been said that Old Harbour House stood. The house takes its place as a beauty of the past. On Christmas Eve 1832, fire reduced it to a few blackened walls. All through the long night the flames made a wild, grand show; sea and land were illuminated for leagues and leagues. Out of the ashes of the beautiful building sprang that commonplace phoenix, the local poet, who celebrated the one tradition of Old Harbour Town in a copy of rhymes, of which the first verse should be found imprinted on the title-page of this book.,In the interval of waiting for the air to clear the new teacher's face had turned a ghastly white. His black eyes blazed; his thin lips were drawn back from his strong, irregular teeth. Gazing upon him, the boys and girls quaked in apprehension. Their fears were well founded. Never before in all his long career in administering knowledge to grubby and inferior minds had Mr. G. G. Johnston been subject to such deadly insult as had been offered him here. It was fully a minute before he could command his voice sufficiently to speak and when he did the words trickled through his stiff lips thinly.,The voice choked up and a tear splashed down on the hand clenched on her lap.,"Did no mutiny amongst the crew follow?" enquired Captain Acton.,"You are a Portia," said Captain Acton.,"Gollies!" exulted Maurice. Then uncertainty in his tones, "A feller 'ud have to be a mighty good shot to do that though, Bill.","I'd call it bein' kind to dumb animals," spoke up Wilson, his eyes meeting the angry ones of his wife.,"Has she returned home?" asked Captain Acton.,The deacon, a florid, full-whiskered man of about sixty, glowered about him. No one present thought of disputing his assertion. The deacon was a power in the community.,"And that was the reason for sailing which he gave you?" said Captain Acton.,The boys waited until the lantern's glow grew hazy through the slackening rain, then they sprang up and followed. Three-quarters of an hour later the trees began to thin. Unwittingly the strangers had guided them into the clearing.,Was it possible that Lucy's situation had driven her out of her mind? Her behaviour throughout the day had been extraordinary. Features of character had appeared in her in the extravagance of her moods and humours which he never could have conceived would, though latent and demanding the summons of insanity to become visible, have formed a part of her nature. She, the gentle, the sweet, the refined, the tender, the sympathetic had exhibited even coarseness. Could she be mad, and yet slumber so soundly? How do the insane sleep?.