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"Both trust me," said Jacobs simply and Maddoc knew that he spoke the truth. He strode across and put his hands on the shoulders of the man from whom he had wrung confession.,

Anson's jaw dropped and he backed fearfully away.,

Stanhope groped his way to him, placed his hands gently on the heaving shoulders, and there they remained until Billy, with a long sigh, raised his swimming eyes.,

Whilst this singular conversation was being conducted in the cabin, a scene in the tragicomedy of which this book is the relation was being prepared on deck. The convoy on the starboard bow had considerably risen and was scattering, and flags from the armed fabrics which watched the vessels streamed at gaff end and mizzen royal mast-head in signal to the slow sailers and to other ships whose blockheads of masters, indifferent to the safety of the bottoms they commanded, acted without reference to the possibility of the enemy heaving into view, and some of them with the contemptible determination to prove their independence by giving the commodore and the naval officers in the other ships as much trouble and annoyance as skilless seamanship could provide.

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"Suits me," agreed Billy, "but jest how? That's the question.",

Captain Weaver sped aft, and in a few moments the English Ensign soared to the mizzen-gaff end and streamed out fair to the sight of the approaching fleet.,

It would be impossible to describe the feelings, sensations, passions of three of the principal actors in this story. Who can analyse human emotion when its state is one of almost chaotic conflict? Sir William Lawrence being satisfied that the sail ahead was Captain Acton's barque, fixed his face in a mask iron-hard with resolution to endure, come what would. His answers were short, and to the[Pg 429] point. He had little to say. His tendency to the garrulity of old age had temporarily withered; he was as grim and reserved as though he commanded a line-of-battle ship, whose stern-walk was exclusively his promenade. He was an old sailor and a gentleman: he prided himself upon his descent; he greatly loved honour and loyalty, which is the spirit of honour, and above all, he loved truth. Yonder was his son in charge of a ship he was endeavouring to steal from his benefactor; he had by a base stratagem kidnapped the sweet and beautiful daughter of his friend; he had proved himself a liar, a thief, a scoundrel in the most voluminous sense of the word. The people of the frigate commanded by Lord Garlies might, doubtless must, come to hear all about his wrongdoing, and through them the story would leak with plenty of colour and plenty of exaggeration, into every ward-room and gun-room and cockpit in His Majesty's Service. These were thoughts and considerations to hold the Admiral austerely silent, and keep him to himself whilst the chase continued.,

Wilson listened interestedly, until Ringold was through. "Well, they've been careful enough about hidin' their good work, at any rate," he said. "You'd think they had somethin' mighty precious inside them walls the way they've guarded it; but I'm sorry if they've met with an accident," he added. "Hinter did really seem anxious to get water."