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But the breakfast bell had been rung, and leaving Captain Weaver and his mate to keep an eye upon the stranger and to act with the prudence which was to be expected of a man of Weaver's sagacity and experience, Captain Acton and his companion entered the deck-house. Here was a cheerful little interior, gay with sunshine, which sparkled in the furniture of the breakfast-table, on which smoked as relishable and hearty a meal as was to be obtained at sea in those days. The two gentlemen found much to talk about, and perhaps because of an argument they had fallen into, their sitting was somewhat lengthened: until just when they were about to rise, Captain Weaver came to the cabin door, and after, with the old-fashioned courtesy of his period, begging their pardon, he exclaimed: "The sail's now clear in the glass from the deck.",

She flashed her hands to her forehead, sobs seemed to shake her, she turned on her heel and went to the big stern window, and looked out upon the sea.,

"'Course it's a lot too much. S'pose we try on' get hold of some of it, Bill?",

A grin rippled across his face and grew into a chuckle. "I bet I sleep in the barn fer a week. I sure hate the smell of sulphur."

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"Because He didn't have no boat!",

"Ann," he commanded, "you run along and get your supper.",

One bright morning in April in that memorable year 1805, Captain Charles Acton, R.N. (retired), stood on his lawn in front of the house watching a gardener who was at work at a flower-bed. He was a slightly-built but tall, very gentleman-like man, one of the last in a crowd to be picked out as a seafarer. He was pale, his nose aquiline, lips thin, and the expression of the mouth firm. He was dressed in a frill shirt, loose cravat of white cambric, red-striped waistcoat, long green coat with a high collar and small cuffs, tight breeches to the ankle buttoned to the middle of the thigh, and top-boots; a rather low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat sat somewhat cocked on his head. His hair was long, without powder, and tied a little way down the back in a sort of tail.,

"She never spoke nor smiled," answered the captain of the brig, "but got quietly in and sat quietly down, and kept her eyes fixed upon the thwart that was next her's whilst the water was being lowered; but afterwards when[Pg 358] I got her over the side and put her into the best cabin we could accommodate her with, she began to talk, said she thanked God for her deliverance, and was grateful indeed to Him for now being on her way home. And she spoke as clear and collected as I do, and is no more mad than I am. But she did not let me into the job whatever it was. She hasn't given me an idea as to her elopement and the reason of her being sent aboard me, and I'm always a-wondering what the trick is."