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"Maurice, you've got about as much sense as a wood-tick," Billy replied in disgust. "How long d'ye s'pose my snakes an' bats an' lizards 'ud last if I turned Croaker loose in there?",

Miss Lucy Acton sat with her eyes veiled by downcast lids fixed in a stare as lifeless as the dead upon her hands, which lay clasped in her lap. So motionless was she, you would have said she slept. Much of the lovely bloom that always gave to her lineaments a choice sweetness was absent, but not the less[Pg 281] did as much of her face as was visible express its refined and delicate beauty.,

With some astonishment Thomas Pledge answered: "I do, sir.",

Mr Lawrence descended the steps into the cabin, which has already been described, with its plain sea furniture and stand of arms, and entered the after berth which he had pretended to convert into a sick bay. Here were two rough bunks, one on top of the other, each containing a mattress and bolster. It was the middle berth betwixt the Captain's and the pantry. Mr Lawrence's sea-chest, clothes, and nautical instruments were here collected. He stepped to a shelf and took from it a tin box containing the ship's papers, and from this box he drew out a large, portentous, heavily-sealed [Pg 247]envelope, whose enclosure of stout paper rendered it somewhat thick and bulky. He looked at the address. Upon the envelope in a bold clerkly hand was written:

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"So do I, sir," said Sir William.,

Then, just as he drew near to the edge of the grove, he caught his breath in terror and the cold sweat leaped out on his fear-blanched face. Drifting directly toward him white as driven snow, came the ghost. It was bearing straight down upon him! His knees grew weak, refused to hold him, and he sagged weakly against a tree. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.,

He motioned to his friend, and the two went over to the window and talked together in low tones.,

Lucy had related much, but she had much more to tell, and she narrated to her father fresh stories of her madness, and drew several graphic pictures of Mr Lawrence whilst he laboured under the various sensations her genius as an untutored artist excited. She spoke with contempt of Mr Eagle, whilst she had little or nothing to say about Mr Pledge. Her narratives were marked by a strong leaning in favour of Mr Lawrence. Her father could not mistake. Her prejudice, indeed her fondness, was expressed not so much in her admirable recitals and her references to the dignified and gentlemanly manner with which Mr Lawrence had treated her, with which he had received her aggravating, indeed her venomous, references to his past and present conduct, as in the pause, the soft, thoughtful smile, the brief exclamation, the sigh, and[Pg 408] now and again the little but significant remark.