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"I guess maybe it's your fancy playin' pranks on you, Mary," he suggested hesitatingly. "Two years of livin' in this lonesome spot has kinder got on your nerves.",

Mr Lawrence came from the ship's side, and said: "Pray continue your walk. I have something of importance to communicate to you," and he looked down into Mr Eagle's face with a curiously mingled expression of contempt, haughtiness and superiority. "It is not customary, I believe," he said, "in the Merchant Service for shipmasters to take their mates into their confidence. It is necessary, however, that I should communicate one or two facts to you in connection with this voyage. I presume you are not aware that Miss Lucy Acton is on board this ship?",

He found Captain Weaver, the master of the brig, and the captain of the brig in conversation. The skipper of the brig had made no[Pg 363] entry touching his falling in with the Minorca. He could depend upon nothing but his memory, and to the best of his recollection he had given to Captain Weaver the latitude and longitude in which he had spoken the Minorca on the morning before the previous day. It was at least certain that the barque was within easy sailing reach of the schooner; it was equally sure that the schooner was almost directly in the tail of the wake of the Minorca, and that if Captain Weaver continued the course he had been steering he was bound to overhaul her, providing the schooner was the swifter vessel.,

It would be impossible to describe the feelings, sensations, passions of three of the principal actors in this story. Who can analyse human emotion when its state is one of almost chaotic conflict? Sir William Lawrence being satisfied that the sail ahead was Captain Acton's barque, fixed his face in a mask iron-hard with resolution to endure, come what would. His answers were short, and to the[Pg 429] point. He had little to say. His tendency to the garrulity of old age had temporarily withered; he was as grim and reserved as though he commanded a line-of-battle ship, whose stern-walk was exclusively his promenade. He was an old sailor and a gentleman: he prided himself upon his descent; he greatly loved honour and loyalty, which is the spirit of honour, and above all, he loved truth. Yonder was his son in charge of a ship he was endeavouring to steal from his benefactor; he had by a base stratagem kidnapped the sweet and beautiful daughter of his friend; he had proved himself a liar, a thief, a scoundrel in the most voluminous sense of the word. The people of the frigate commanded by Lord Garlies might, doubtless must, come to hear all about his wrongdoing, and through them the story would leak with plenty of colour and plenty of exaggeration, into every ward-room and gun-room and cockpit in His Majesty's Service. These were thoughts and considerations to hold the Admiral austerely silent, and keep him to himself whilst the chase continued.

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"I think you are a mutinous dog," said Mr Lawrence in a snarling, sarcastic voice, but preserving a frown that was portentous of an intellectual thunderstorm through the darkness of which the eyes would flash lightning. "Do you see those men-of-war out yonder? I need but make a signal to bring an armed crew aboard, and then you shall[Pg 337] be carried into the first port that's convenient and discharged to make way for a crew of willing men—men willing to obey their commander, who must be willing to obey his owner.",

"My dear sister, we are going to do nothing of the sort. Not that a voyage to the West Indies in such a vessel as the Aurora would be a fearful adventure or a terrible ordeal. Indeed I never look at that little ship," said he, turning his eyes in the direction of the schooner, "without a longing to be on her deck when she is fully clothed, when the liberal breeze of the sea blows steadily, and when bending under her white heights she springs like the flying fish from one sparkling sea to another, cradled always by the rocking hand of the swell.",

Billy was still thinking of the only girl when he topped the farther ridge and descended into the valley where stood the haunted grove. He wondered what she would say when he told her the great news he had to tell her. He thought he knew. She would put her hand on his arm and say: "Billy, I'm glad." Well, he was on his way to hear her say it. As he entered a clump of cedars he saw her. She wore a cloak of crimson; her hat had slipped to her shoulders and her hair glowed softly through the shadowy half lights. She stood beside old man Scroggie's grave, a great bunch of golden-rod in her arms.,

"Where is the Aurora going?" enquired Lucy.