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"'I hope they won't get among my quail,' I says, an' Scraff he turned round an' looked at me mighty hard, but he didn't say nuthin'. He went away, grumblin', an' carryin' six of Dad's traps. Course I knowed he couldn't catch a weasel in a trap in twenty years an' he didn't catch any either. Ma weasel killed some more of his Leghorns, an' then Scraff he comes to me. 'Billy,' he says, 'is there any way to get rid of weasels?' 'Sure there's a way,' I says, 'but not everybody knows it.',

"Faith, an' I did not. But ut's all the same, impty or full. Niver ag'in will ut lead me into delirium tremens, I promise ye that, although it's meself that knows where there's a plinty of whisky, so I do.",

Suddenly those eyes opened wide. Was he dreaming again or did he hear the low croak of a crow? He twisted his head. There at his feet sat Croaker. The crow's beady eyes were fastened on him. Suspended from its neck was a cord and attached to the cord was a piece of yellow wrapping paper.,

"It is good of your Royal Highness," she exclaimed in softly modulated, respectful tones, uttered in a measure that gave them a courtier-like dignity, "to visit me in my loneliness and distress. The great Duke of Clarence, sir"—again she curtsied—"will ever be remembered with love and pride by a kingdom whose glory lies in the deeds of her sailors, for his devotion to the sea, to those who sail it, and who bleed for their country upon it."

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"Hush," warned Billy. His heart was pounding.,

"Have you seen anything of the French Fleet?",

Mr Lawrence pursued the same road home by which he had gained Old Harbour. In all probability had Mr Greyquill not looked back, the young gentleman would have found his letter where he had unconsciously dropped it. That side of the bridge—the up-river water path—was much unfrequented, save on a Sunday, when lovers walked along it, and now and again a little family dressed in their best. It was many chances to one that the two or three who had passed along that path since Mr Lawrence and Mr Greyquill had stood in conversation upon it, would have[Pg 146] picked up the letter or even taken notice of it, so very remote from their ideas of things worth stopping for and examining on the highway was a folded sheet of paper.,

"Why did Christ walk on the sea of Galilee?" repeated Mr. Keeler, folding his arms impressively and looking hard at Billy, who once more shot a side-long glance across the room. The blue eyes were wide open with wonder and astonishment now, that he could not answer so simple a question as that. Billy's mind worked with lightning speed. He would answer that question if it cost him his life. Promptly he stood up.