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Eagle stood dumbfounded. He was prepared to hear her represent her state in such fiction as had been preconcerted between her and Mr Lawrence. But he never could have supposed that simulation of madness was the posture of mind she had pre-arranged to feign, and she looked so mad and spoke so madly that it was impossible for such a stubborn, sour old fool to see the truth or know what she meant.,

"Poor old Daddy," Erie laughed, coming around to sit on the arm of his chair. "It does seem too bad you can't have your smoke. I'm sure you miss it dreadfully; but you see you are so much stronger and better I—well, I simply won't let you smoke just yet, that's all.",

"Is papa on board?" asked Lucy.,

"I durs'nt," whined Paul. "I've the Captain's orders to keep my mouth shut," and he hastened up the steps.

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"And what after?" enquired Lucy, observing that her father paused with an expressive look at Sir William, "I mean what after as regards Mr Lawrence?",

"Yes, Nelson is the great sea-poem of the age," said Captain Acton, "and I find more melody in the thunder of his guns than in the prettiest turns of the poetic measure. Are you going home, sister?",

Not until he had put some distance between himself and hia friends did he remember that he had not told them the great and wonderful news that had been imparted to him by old Harry. Well, never mind, they would hear it soon. Harry would see to that. He turned into a path that strayed far up among clumps of red-gold maples and ochre-stained oaks. The whistle of quail sounded from a ridge of brown sumachs. Up the hill, across the deep valley, where wintergreen berries gleamed like drops of blood among the mosses, he passed slowly and on to the beech-crowned ridge.,

Amongst those who just then were standing upon the quay-side gazing with more or less of interest at the Minorca and the other vessels moored to the walls, was old Mr Greyquill, whose figure was immediately [Pg 107]conspicuous by reason of his long white hair and heavily white thatched eyebrows. And this day he wore a round velvet cap such as might have been suggested to him by a portrait by some old Flemish artist, and a velvet coat. He stood on the wharf a few paces behind some people who formed a little group, and peered at the Minorca with the sharp of his hand pressed against his brow seeking to determine the faces he saw on board. He was too far off to recognise the Admiral and Captain Acton, who now appeared, but the moment Mr Lawrence's head was visible above the bulwark-rail he knew him, and seemed to try to catch his eye, but Lawrence, who instantly perceived him, averted his gaze or turned his back, and after steadily staring for some moments under the shelter of his hand the old fellow shuffled off.