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The small amount of work in the shape of discharging and receiving cargo which was being done on the wharves of Old Harbour, had come to a pause when the labourers' dinner-hour struck, and but three or four figures were visible upon the tar-black platforms along which the little ships were moored. Of these one was a brig and the other a schooner, and one was the Minorca, a handsome coppered barque of five hundred tons built by the French, and, as we have heard, taken from that people. "Gee! Bill, is she goin' to give you ten cents fer helpin' Maurice keep fire on?" asked Anson eagerly. They talked of this and of other matters connected with the Minorca, and then the Admiral went to the window to fill his pipe, and Mr Lawrence to his bedroom..

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His companions crept forward and peered through the trees. Sure enough from the one unglazed window of the old building came the twinkle of a light, which bobbed about in weird, uncertain fashion. "Not a bit. I'll run in to his dock tonight, an' tell him." "Walk with me, and we'll endeavour to find out if Miss Lucy Acton was on the wharf after the hour of half-past seven this morning, and before the Minorca sailed." He levelled the tubes at the shipping, but witnessed no signs of the Minorca. He was amazed. The glass sank in his hand, and he rubbed his naked eye and fastened it again upon the Harbour. The vessel was to sail at half-past twelve, and it was now about a quarter past ten, and the Minorca was gone. The old gentleman took aim with his glass at the little breadth of sea that was in sight, in a hopeless way conceiving that a sail, invisible to his bare vision, might leap into the lenses out of the distant blue recess, and proclaim herself to his nautical eye as the ship that was gone. Nothing was in sight..