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"Oh, nuthin', only she happened to find a pipe in one of the pockets, that's all.",

Billy found Mrs. Keeler peeling onions in the cook-house and after some trouble made her understand what was wanted. While she was shedding her apron and hunting for her hat he went outside. Maurice's school-books and slate lay on the bench beneath the hop vine. Billy grinned as his eyes fell on them. He climbed to the top of the gate-post and searched the surrounding fields for his chum, locating him finally down near the ditch, a lonely and pathetic figure seated on a little knoll, methodically topping mangles with a sickle. His back was toward Billy and it took all the latter's self restraint to refrain from giving the rally call, but he remembered what he had promised Maurice's father. So he slid down from the post and picking up the slate, produced a stub of slate-pencil from a pocket and wrote a message in symbols. Then on the other side of the slate he duplicated the message, adding the necessary key to the code. This was the message that Billy wrote,

Hinter held out his hand. "Well, good night, Miss Erie," he said. "I'll be up again soon, with some books for you.",

"I see," said Scroggie. Of course he didn't, but he wanted to make Billy feel that he did.

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"I should be much obliged for a cask of beef, sir," he said, after touching the narrow penthouse of a queerly constructed fur cap. "It's still a long way home for that there Louisa Ann, whose bin a hundred and seventy days in bringing us so fur.",

Mr Lawrence sat down alone in the plain little cabin of the Minorca on this the first day of the vessel's sailing, and upon the table were placed by Paul a boiled fowl, a piece of boiled bacon, a round of cold fresh beef boiled, a dish of sausages, and two or three dishes of vegetables. Paul having already received instructions placed a tray furnished for a meal beside his master on the table; and Mr Lawrence cut some fowl and bacon, adding vegetables, and filled a small tumbler with red wine, and then,[Pg 264] stepping to the door of the berth in which Lucy Acton was confined, he almost noiselessly inserted the key and softly shot the latch, and resumed his seat, and Paul, bearing the tray of food, knocked on the door, and receiving no reply entered, and the motion of the ship upon a long, steady heave of swell slammed the door to after him.,

"I have not met with the usage," old Greyquill went on calmly, steadily exasperating Miss Acton by a preface that was disgusting and needless whilst she thirsted for the one essential fact, "that I certainly think I deserve from either Admiral Sir William Lawrence, nor his son, Mr Lawrence." He spoke with so complete a neglect of the Admiral's presence that the old gentleman might have been out of the room. "They have no claim upon my kindness.",

Just as the sun rose the Admiral came on deck, and as the old gentleman stepped over the coaming of the sunk door of the deck-house and mounted the two or three steps that carried him on deck, the man on the topgallant yard, with his telescope shooting straight from his eye into the south-west quarter of the sea, bawled: "On deck there! Two sail, a point and a half on the starboard bow."