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"And you made Mr Lawrence afraid of you?" said Sir William.,

Shortly before twelve the people of the Minorca beheld on the starboard bow one of those bland and beautiful pictures of the sea which have vanished from the face of the[Pg 328] waters to be seen no more. The Lizard was painted in a soft, blue looming mass against the sky, and to the right of it upon the sea-line, there sprang like stars in their rising, the white cloths of ships—a numerous convoy from Torbay; they rose fast with a pleasant breeze on the quarter, and one hundred and sixty sail could have been counted with three line-of-battle ships and some frigates to look after them. They were of all rigs known in those days, from the commanding Indiaman armed like a man-o'-war, hoisting her huge main and fore-yards by jeers, loosing her vast topsails out of the tops, clothed as no ship now goes clothed with sprit-sail and sprit-topsail, water sails and other devices in canvas to catch even the faintest cat's paw that should tarnish the burnished calm, down to the little snow bound to Lisbon; a gallant, an imposing, a splendid sight, when every hull was shaped upon the sea which seemed to be transformed into a mighty plain, brilliant for leagues with the shining white cones of tents.,

Maurice glanced fearfully over his shoulder. "Hush, Bill. If your Ma happens to come back here it'll go bad with me.",

"On the freight?"

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Not far from the large old-fashioned hearth[Pg 65] beside a little table on which stood a work-basket, sat in a tall-backed arm-chair fit for a queen to be crowned in, a figure that must have carried the memory of a middle-aged or old man of that time well back into the past century. She was Miss Acton, Lucy's Aunt Caroline, sister of Captain Acton, a lady of about seventy years of age, who trembled with benevolence and imaginary alarms, who was always doing somebody good, and was now at work upon some baby clothing for an infant that had been born a week or two before.,

"Oh, hadn't he then! Well, who up and deliberately stole his horse, I'd like to know?" Mrs. Wilson held her breath waiting for the answer.,

Stanhope, hands clasped together, sat staring into a vista of shadows that were all but dissolved. Above them lifted a face that smiled—and down across sleeping, darkening waters a long ray of light swept to touch his unseeing eyes and whisper her message of hope.,

Mrs. Keeler gulped and reached for her apron but recollecting that she had hung it up to dry, rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. "Cobin says that young man is jest about heartbroke, spite o' the smile he wears," she said. "Tries so hard to be cheerful, too, in spite of all. Preacher Reddick had supper with us last Sunday night an' he said the teacher was the finest specimen of Christly example he'd ever seen."