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In a moment Billy was beside her. "Oh Missus Keeler," he pleaded, miserably. "I didn't say that. Don't think I'd do anythin' to hurt you, 'cause I wouldn't. An' I wouldn't play no dirty trick on you. You've been good to me an' I think a heap o' you, even if you do cuff me sometimes. Mr. Spencer put up that basket himself while I was over to the cottage, gittin' my supper.",

"You are not likely to go mad," he said, smiling at her, and his handsome face with that smile lighting it up might have helped to conquer any woman, though betrayed into the imprisonment of a ship's cabin, and sailed away with into unknown regions, who in her heart of hearts felt towards this man as Lucy Acton did. But not in the way that Mr Lawrence had devised was the victory to be his.,

He received two taps and sighed relievedly; then as his mother arose to bring the coffee-pot from the stove he felt three quick and distinct pressures and ducked his head just in time to miss a swinging, open-handed slap from Mrs. Wilson's heavy hand.,

"Why to be sure," rejoined her neighbor, "come right along in an' I'll get 'em. I want you to see how nice my canned tomaters look." As they turned towards the house, Mrs. Wilson caught sight of Maurice, huddled in the big chair beneath the trailing vine.

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Mr Lawrence supped alone as he had dined alone, and, as he intended, to breakfast alone. At sea the last meal which in the old forecastle days consisted of black tea and ship's[Pg 296] biscuit was invariably called supper. At six o'clock Mr Lawrence sat down to the last meal of the day. A tray for the inmate of the Captain's cabin was prepared. It was furnished with tea and milk (for the ship was but one day out, and though she wanted a cow she could not need at least a day's supply of milk), bread and butter, slices of ham and biscuits. When the steward came from the cabin Mr Lawrence said: "Did the young lady speak?",

"How I am always being disappointed!" he exclaimed, and she might by the note in his voice, by a smile which did not show perfect self-control, and by a heated colour of complexion, have by this time suspected that this gentleman and his companion, who was Lieutenant Tupman, had not looked in at "The Swan" Inn only to find out what o'clock it was.,

He finished his supper in a very gloomy mood. His character has been imperfectly drawn if it leaves upon the reader the impression that he was no more than a gallant, handsome, hectoring scoundrel, a drunkard, a liar, and a gambler. He was more than this, and better than this. In him was a very great deal of honest, sturdy, British human nature, and amongst those who saw the white skin of his character peeping through the rags and tatters of his morals was the young lady whom he had locked up in his cabin. Was he driving, had he driven her mad? This was an awful thought to him, a figure, a presentment on the canvas of his scheme which his utmost imagination never could have painted. He was passionately [Pg 298]fond of her. In truth he was risking his neck to win her. His inmost sensibility as a man and as a gentleman was in perpetual posture of recoil over the reflection that his hand it was that had made this gently-nurtured, beautiful, adorable girl a prisoner in a little ship that was rolling to a port in which she was to be fraudulently sold. He thought of her in the lovely drawing-room of Old Harbour House: the soft illumination of wax lights; the sweet incense of flowers; the piano whose keys were accompanied by her own melodious warblings; her little dog; all the comforts and luxuries which wealth could provide her with; all that a tender-hearted and loving father could endow his only child whom he loved with. And then he thought of her torn from all this pleasantness and sweetness and elegance, so robed that in a short period she must become beggarly to the eye; after her father's hospitable and plentiful table, fed with the poor fare of a common little ship.,

"Looks like a good feedin' place, Moll," he addressed the spaniel as he paddled slowly across to the far shore of the slough. "Good grass here fer hidin', too; but not much chance of findin' a down bird without a good dog, an' I've got her—eh girlie?"