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"The news does not surprise me," said Lucy. "I think I told you this morning, sir, that Sir William wished to see you. Do you like the idea of commanding the Minorca?" "Where's Bill?" "What is she doing?".

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"Yes," she said softly. "I know him perhaps better than most folks do. I am not surprised that he can handle these dogs, Mr. Hinter." "A brilliant piece of work, sir," cried Nelson. Billy had heard that when one comes face to face with death the misdeeds of the life about to go out crowd into one brief second of darting reality before one. He had never quite believed it but he believed it now. If only he might have his misspent life to live over again! Never again would he steal Deacon Ringold's melons or swap broken-backed, broken-bladed jack-knives for good ones with the Sand-sharks, nor frighten his brother Anson with tales of witches and goblins. But that chance was not for him. It was, perhaps, natural that his last earthly thought would be of her. Her sweet face shone through the choking mists—her trembling lips were murmuring a last "good bye." Did she know what a wonderful influence her entrance into his heart had exerted toward his reform? With an effort he opened his eyes. The white, gliding thing was almost upon him now. He tried to shake off frozen terror and run. He could not move a muscle. He groaned and shut his eyes tight, waiting for the icy touch of a spirit-hand. It found him after what seemed an eternity of waiting—but it was very soft and warm instead of clammy and cold and the voice which spoke his name was not in the least sepulchral. "Well," laughed Wilson, "if anybody kin make Joe toe the scratch it's you, Deacon. Didn't see anythin' of Hinter on your rounds, did you?".