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The Aurora and the line-of-battle ship sailed so close that it needed a special vigilance on the part of Captain Weaver to preserve his schooner's spars from the yard-arms of the towering vessel within a biscuit toss. Much exertion of voice was therefore not necessary for conversation, and though Nelson occupied a platform high above the low deck of his schooner, his features were perfectly visible, and his voice fell as clear as though he stood beside those he addressed. With his eyes on the white sail, now a tiny dot on the horizon, his mind went back to that scene of a month ago, when he had told her of Hinter's proposal and of his consent to it. He would never quite forget the look that came into her face. Mr Lawrence viewed the old lady with silent astonishment..

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The Aurora's boat was swept alongside the brig, and Captain Acton and the Admiral clambered over the side up a short flight of steps, and in an instant Lucy was clasped in the devouring embrace of her father. Such an old-world scene taxes the highest gifts of the pen or the brush. This Louisa Ann was about fifty years old; she was nearly as broad as she was long. Her fore-mast was stepped far in the bows; her decks were stained and grimy; the paint had faded out of the inside of her bulwarks. Her sails were patched and so dingy that they might have been coloured as a smack's. Her rusty sides were lined with yawning seams amid which three little circular windows were merged with no accentuation from the dirt-shrouded glass which prevented the sea from entering the blistered, worn, mani-coloured hull. Her sailors looked as though[Pg 359] they were shipwrecked: long-haired, bearded, sallow, in clothes considerably tattered, in aspect melancholy and dejected with lack of nourishment, dullness of sailing and ceaseless motion: for here was the tub wallowing like a buoy in a popple upon a smooth sea, and the frightful weather she would make off Cape Horn or in a gale of wind the imagination of a sailor could readily picture by witnessing her motions now. They passed on, and then from the sable-hued cedars bordering the orchard four small figures stole and moved softly away. Below his window sounded a whippoorwill's call. From the opposite side of the room came the long, regular snores of Anson. Billy sat up in bed and started to remove the tacks from the window screen. "What is she, do you think?" said Captain Acton..