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And meanwhile Captain Weaver had received instructions from Captain Acton to continue his chase of the Minorca, and the schooner under full and large breasts of canvas was gently leaning from a pleasant little breeze which had sprung up whilst the Aurora was sending meat and water to the brig, and was sliding with some show of nimbleness through a blue surface that was summer-like in peaceful rippling, in beautiful dyes, and in splendid distances.,

At six o'clock, greatly wearied, Captain Acton mounted his mare at "The Swan" stables and rode home. He was very pale. Indeed this man loved his daughter, who was his only child. His immediate question, put with bright-eyed passion to the servant who came to the door, was, "Has Miss Lucy returned?",

"So you did all that, did you?" he laughed. "Oh, but you're a smart bird. But see here, if you go on the way you're doin', dirtyin' Ma's clean clothes an' abusin' her like I heard you doin', your light's goin' out sudden one of these days. Ma's scared to shoot the ol' gun herself, but she'll get Anse to do it. I guess I better shut you up on wash-mornin's after this.",

"I've been waitin' for you and now I'm goin' to lick you," he said.

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It was a May morning in the English Channel. Over the soft blue of the sky some large clouds as yellow and tender for the eye to dwell upon as the spume of the sea from the receding breaker, with glories in their brows and glories in their skirts, were sailing slowly and stately on the mild breeze that blew sweet with mingled odours of land and brine from the coast of Old England. There was weight enough in the wind to grace the lines of streaming waters as they ran with feathers of foam, and on this wide plain, with the shores of Britain dwelling in a faint, violet shadow upon the starboard horizon north, but one ship was visible and scarce to be wondered at!,

"When does the Minorca sail?",

"You say Stanhope? Why, man alive! I've been looking high and low for you. What do you think of that, Doctor, I've found him at last!",

The wharves were old platforms black with tar or pitch, and at the back of them were three warehouses for the accommodation of such merchandise as this Old Harbour received or sent afloat. Perched midway on the slope that was terminated by the brow of the cliff where the windmill this morning was peacefully revolving its vans, was Old Harbour Town, a romantic grouping of little grey houses full of sparkling lozenge windows backed by a church spire, the whole looking in the distance like a toy that could be put into a box and set out according to taste upon a table by a child.