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Down sank a boat from the davits with a lieutenant in the stern sheets, and six sailors to pull her, and in a dozen strokes of the blades feathering in fire to the sunlight and dropping jewels of brilliant dyes ere they were buried for the next foaming impulse, the boat was alongside the schooner. The lieutenant mounted the short length of steps which had been flung over through the open gangway and saluted the little ship as all sea-gentlemen do, or should, when they step aboard a vessel, even though she should be as mean as an Irish hooker.,

The Admiral, Captain Acton, and Captain Weaver stood in the gangway to receive the officer, a man whose portrait should be painted by the caricaturing brush of a Michael Scott. He was this side of forty, and a great Roman nose stood out like a flying jib between two gaunt cheeks whose hollows when he was silent made you think he was sucking in his breath. He wore a pigtail under a very old, tarnished cocked hat. His uniform coat was scarcely held together by the tailor's thread, and appeared to have travelled a score of times round the world in an age when a voyage round the world was regarded as something more prodigious than we should now consider a voyage to the moon, if such a journey were practicable. His shoes were rusty; his hose had gone into mourning over an absence of soap that was all the same as the death of his laundress. Yet despite a garb that made a travesty of the human figure there was something distinguished and even noble in the man's bearing. It was to be seen at once (and no masterful capacity of penetration was needed) that in this officer was the gentleman of old blood, poor and proud, a loyal subject whose heart's life was at the service of his King and country.,

"Then why did you do it?" They were out into the hardwoods by now, in a long valley strewn with a net-work of sunbeams and shadows and he saw a hint of reproach in her big eyes as she asked the question. His heart leaped with sheer joy. She might just as well have said, "You have no right to run risks, now that you have me to consider.",

Mr Eagle looked as obedient as a quartermaster to instructions sternly delivered by a flogging captain.

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"What sort of a fellow was this who stopped Miss Acton?" enquired the Admiral. "Was he a pauper? Broken clothes, whining voice, the suppliant's demeanour—that sort of thing?",

"Nothing of the sort. I am sure of it!" exclaimed Miss Acton. "Who hears of such outrages happening here?",

Maurice stared. So that was it! Billy and old Harry had found the goods stolen from the Twin Oaks store. There were doin's—big doin's, and Billy wanted him in on 'em. He leaned over to secure a view of his mother and Mrs. Wilson. Mrs. Keeler had removed her wet apron and was now seated on the bench beside her neighbor, listening to the latest gossip.,

When the wound had been dressed, during which Mr Lawrence kept his eyes shut and his teeth set—he was in mortal pain—the Admiral asked him gently if he suffered much. Mr Lawrence opened his eyes and looked at his father, and smiled slightly. Faint as the smile was, mingled as it was with the distortion of anguish, it had in it the charm of a manly beauty which only the decay of the grave could destroy, and in it also were remorse and gratitude. His lips parted in the words, "No, sir," and again his eyes closed.