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"Oh, certainly, and his reception was all that I could have expected at his hands.",

Billy turned and came back slowly to where he sat. "Anse," he said. "I ain't wantin' to see you witch-chased, so I'll jest give you the tie an' collar an' say not a word to Croaker er Ringdo; an' if you'll tell me somethin' I want'a know I'll let you sleep with my rabbit-foot charm underneath your piller.",

"Now, sir," continued Captain Acton, "it is not the intention of Sir William Lawrence or myself to suffer my daughter to be kidnapped[Pg 226] by an act of treachery which I forbear to say more about in the presence of my honourable and gallant old friend, Admiral Lawrence.",

"Who commanded His Britannic Majesty's sloop Merlin?" cried Sir William. "My dear Fellowes, this is indeed an unexpected meeting. And you knew me before I should have known you!"

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He seemed convinced by these enquiries at the wharves that at all events Mr Lawrence could have had nothing whatever to do with the communication which Mr Adams had seen Paul place in the hands of Miss Lucy. Who, then, was the sender of the note, and how was it that Paul, who should have been on board his ship since she was on the eve of sailing, should have been engaged to carry the letter? There was really no particular reason why the writer should be a man. Why should not she be a woman? She might even be[Pg 196] a relative of the fellow Paul. Lucy was a girl of singular kindness, who was always helping others and going amongst the poor and ministering to the afflicted; and though Captain Acton could not positively say, he might readily believe that she had one or two or three poor sufferers on her list whom she saw to and helped with her purse, and one of these—possibly a woman—might have written the letter in a moment of urgency intending it for delivery at Old Harbour House.,

"What sort of a fellow was this who stopped Miss Acton?" enquired the Admiral. "Was he a pauper? Broken clothes, whining voice, the suppliant's demeanour—that sort of thing?",

"Oh, madam, my dearest madam," exclaimed the Admiral in a voice broken with feeling, "how am I to thank you? What words do your angelic goodness leave me for the conveyance of my gratitude?",

"Do you think, sir, that he could with safety be transferred to the Aurora?" asked Captain Acton, with an appearance of anxiety that seemed to render his evasion of Mr Fellowes' question undesigned. "We could nurse him there. We are a comfortable little ship, better found—certainly in the way of the cabin—than this vessel."