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Mrs. Keeler edged forward distrustfully. "What's that he says he's goin' to do in two weeks?" she asked, suspicion in her tones. "Cause if you think, young man, you be goin' to go in swimmin' ag'in, inside two weeks—" she pointedly addressed Maurice, "you got another think comin'. I'm goin' to see that you don't suffer no re-lapse.",

"How does the lady seem?" said Mr Lawrence.,

"You did," Maurice affirmed. "An' you grabbed Fatty by the arm an' pulled his shirt sleeve out. I saw you. And you can't say you didn't run neither, else how did you get here same time as Fatty an' me?",

"Well, I didn't run, but I own I follered you," compromised Billy. "There wasn't anythin' else I could do, was there? How did I know what you two scared rabbits ud do? You might'a run plumb into Lake Erie an' got drownded, you was so scared. Somebody's had to keep his head," he said airily.

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"You! At your time of life, brother, going a voyage to the West Indies with every probability of the French making a prisoner of you and Lucy!" cried Miss Acton in the[Pg 108] high key in which she saluted the ear when she was alarmed.,

"No, sir," cried Billy. "You don't fool me ag'in. I'm goin' to climb up there an' see jest how much gold is hid in that hole under the gable.",

Billy sat looking away. His grey eyes had grown somber. "See here," he said suddenly, "do you know that old man Scroggie left a will?",

Lucy was of opinion that the ship must prove the Minorca. She well understood that the two vessels could not be far asunder, and quite rationally concluded that the sail ahead was the barque. It would have needed, however, a keener gaze than either Captain Acton[Pg 413] or the Admiral was capable of bringing to bear, to penetrate to the girl's thoughts. Whilst the distant vessel leaned like a small orange flame gently blown sideways by the wind upon the early evening purple of the horizon, Lucy would overhang the rail with her brooding, beautiful eyes dwelling upon that far-off vision, and the expression of her face was in these intervals of motionless posture and steadfast regard, as though she was asleep and dreamt, and that her dream was partly sweet and partly vexing and bitter, so that her whole look was that of one who slumbers, through whose sealed lids a vision of sleep slides to the heart to trouble its pulse.