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Next day was Sunday and Billy did not like Sundays. They meant the scrubbing of his face, ears and neck with "Old Brown Windsor" soap until it fairly cracked if he so much as smiled, and being lugged off with his parents and Anse to early forenoon Sunday School in the little frame church in the Valley. There was nothing interesting about Sunday School; it was the same old hum-drum over and over again—same lessons, same teachers, same hymns, same tunes; with Deacon Ringold's assertive voice cutting in above all the other voices both in lessons and singing and with Mrs. Scraff's shrill treble reciting, for her class's edification, her pet verse: "Am I nothing to thee, all ye who pass by?"—only Mrs. Scraff always improvised more or less on the scriptures, and usually threw the verse defiantly from her in this form: "You ain't nuthin to me, all you who pass me by.",
Maurice and Billy stared at him. "It was your money paid fer him," Billy asserted.,
Another moment and he was outside beside Lou, bag and box in his arms. Croaker was nowhere to be seen; neither was the gold piece which he had dropped in his amazement at sight of Billy and Lou.,
CHAPTER XIV OLD HARRY TURNS A TRICK
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When Billy reached the loft, Anson was standing in the center of the room, smashing with clenched fists at the empty air. Billy sat down on his bed and grinned. "You will run straight into trouble, in spite of all I say, Anse," he said gently. "It's all your own fault; you will be a tattle-tale.",
There was the sound of the quick intaking of breath, and an audible long-drawn "Oh!" from the girls.,
Billy shook his head. "I dunno," he replied. "That's a hard question to answer.",
"We will explore it together. I hope to have the pleasure of handing you over the side, ma'am," said the Admiral to Miss Acton.
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"You might tell him that he's an angel if you wanter lie to him," returned Shipley, "or that he's a canny old skin-flint, if you wanter tell him the truth. I reckon, though, sonny, you best tell him that we'll be along 'tween ten and leven.
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"The butcher does not charge at your rate, Mr Greyquill," said Mr Lawrence with a faint smile.
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Captain Acton and Lucy often walked the deck deep in talk. The Captain had decided in his own mind to place Eagle in charge of the Minorca, with orders to proceed to Kingston, providing there was no disaffection[Pg 430] amongst the crew, and Mr Lawrence would be transferred to the Aurora and conveyed to England. What excuses would he plead? What apologies would he offer? What sort of a figure would he make in the sight of his father? in the thoughts of the girl whom in the sacred name of love he had used with such reckless cruelty, as to deprive her of her reason, as he supposed? in the opinion of the kindly gentleman whose confidence he had grossly abused? Would he, when landed in England, consent to ship as a sailor before the mast, and conceal himself for the remainder of his life in a distant land? If not, what would he do? What must be his fate?
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>Close to lay the gun-brig reflecting her white band broken by ports in the calm surface. She looked to be ready for sea; all her yards were across, the white sails furled with that exquisite finish which expresses the pat of the man-o'-warsman's hand; but there was nobody visible aboard of her. Beyond, the eye went to the short length of timber pier, and on this side of it to some smacks which now floated at little buoys or at their own anchors, though at ebb of tide Old Harbour was mainly mud[Pg 29] with the river's bed in the middle and vessels lying high, black and gaunt in several postures, whilst out in the south the ripple of the sea in smooth weather streamed to and fro with long lashings of black weed, and the air was salt and nimble with the smell of marine growths.
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