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But what was to be said aboard that loutish old brig, with a crew of half-starved, weedy mariners looking on agape? In a very few minutes Lucy was handed into the Aurora's boat, and the party were making for the schooner as swiftly as the dip and sweep of oars could impel the keen-bowed little fabric.,

"Great Scott! Bill, you mean to say it got ol' Harry?",

"Good!" cried the Admiral, with an expressive look at Captain Acton—"instead," continued Sir William, "of Kingston, Jamaica, to which place her cargo is consigned. We are following her in this clipper, which outsails her by two to one, and we have reason to know that she is now about two days in advance of us. The Minorca is armed: we are not. And your captain will be conferring a very great favour upon us if, seeing that the Phœbe is almost as swift as this schooner, he will allow us to keep him company, so that if we jointly fall in with the Minorca, her crew may be overawed by the guns of the frigate.",

"And you are so fine an actress as to have been able to persuade so intelligent a man that you were actually mad?" enquired Captain Acton with some astonishment.

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Sir William Lawrence was very grave, his looks were stern, almost fierce, as he entered the boat. Captain Acton was cool and thoughtful. His brow was knitted; his lips were set. His demeanour was that of a self-possessed man confronted by a condition of things rendered complex by features extraneous to the main trouble or difficulty, yet confounding it by their existence. Lucy watched the scene from the after-part of the Aurora's quarterdeck. She stood alone in that part of the ship leaning upon the rail, and once or twice her gaze followed the boat that was bearing her father and the Admiral to the Minorca; but it was chiefly directed at the[Pg 434] barque whose length she explored for a sight of the tall figure whom she had immediately recognised as Mr Lawrence, whilst Sir William was surveying his son through his glass. She mused upon the amazing passage of her life that had filled the interval between the time of her going on board yonder ship, believing her father to be lying dangerously injured in her, down to the hour of her transference to the Whitby brig. Never was her pensive beauty more fascinating than now, whilst her soft dark eyes brooded upon the ship that had been her floating prison. What would Mr Lawrence say or think when he came to understand that her madness was feigned, a dramatic stratagem to obtain liberty and restoration? How would he—but how could he—face his father whom he had degraded, and her father whom he had robbed and wronged?,

Tom allowed a shade of amiability to creep into his tones as he said: "First time we ever shot these grounds, and we're kinder green on the ins and outs of 'em. We're drillin' fer water down in the Settlement. Lost our drill this mornin' and had to send across the lake fer a fishin' outfit, so thought we'd put in the time shootin' a bit.",

"Your other hand," commanded Mr. Johnston.,

"An' if you're agoin' out to the barn do try'nd not carry any more of the barn-yard in on your big feet than you kin help. I jest finished moppin' the floors."