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"Why, what is it?",

"Yes, teacher." Billy came close to him and the two stood for a long time in the silence of mute understanding. Then the boy delivered the message just as Erie had whispered it. Stanhope did not speak. He simply lifted his face to the stars, eyes streaming, lips moving dumbly. Billy moved softly away through the shadows.,

"Who said that?" shouted Mr Lawrence, with the blood red in his face.,

He dropped to the sward and stepped through an unglazed window into the hut. Nailed to one end was a crude ladder. Billy climbed the ladder and peered closely at the log which held the money. To all appearances it was exactly like its fellows, no door, no latch to be seen. And still, he reasoned, there must be an opening of some kind there. He lit a match and held it close to the log. Then he whistled. What he had mistaken for a pine knot was a small button fixed, as he saw now, in a tiny groove. He moved the button and a small section of the log fell, spraying him with musty dust.

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"And knowing that in spite of his many short-comings Pennsylvania Scroggie wouldn't deliberately rob young Stanhope of the property, providing he knew for sure that his uncle had made the young man his heir, you made up your mind to blow Spencer's safe and get hold of the will yourself—supposing it was there, and so make sure of your own little rake-off.",

She stayed her sobbing to exclaim in the high, strained notes she had before spoken in: "Send me home, sir! send me back to my father! There are ships about. You speak falsely if you say there are no ships. We are still near my home. Do as I say before you drive me mad!",

"No, I thank you, sir. I am to dine to-day with Mr Perry. I have long promised to eat a cut of cold meat with him. His cider is the best I know. His cider alone makes him worth dining with.",

The Admiral stood looking as though petrified. All the wrath that was in him, all the fierce and terrible thoughts which had raged in his heart and prepared his tongue for a delivery desperate and fearful in the mouth of a father, melted, vanished, faded as smoke in the air, as a shred of mist torn from a cloud in the sky, and his face wore an expression of unutterable grief, of horror beyond expression in words, every passion and emotion it displayed being irradiated by the light of a father's love which had seemed to be waning and expiring in its socket, but which found life and power in that mute, irresistible prayer addressed to him as a father by an only son whose valour[Pg 438] he had honoured, whose beauty he was proud of, whose life appealed to him more deeply in that his career had been halted by an act of folly when his reputation stood high for heroic daring. He went to the side of the body; he looked down upon the face with tearless eyes, and with that same dry sob in his throat which Captain Acton had heard when the poor old gentleman spoke after Mr Greyquill's visit, then sank upon his knees beside his son, muttering: "Walter, oh, Walter, that it should have come to this! I loved you, my son—may God pity me, and have mercy upon you!"