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"You want to imply," he cried, "that there was an understanding between Mr Lawrence and my daughter?",

"Was ever woman in this humour woo'd?,

"Likely story that about his pilin' on you from behind," scoffed Billy. "You met him on the path an' tried to get gay with him, more like, an' he pasted you a few. You shouldn't hunt trouble, Anse; you can't fight, an' you know it. What's this new boy like?" he asked curiously.,

"Good!" exulted Stanhope. "Three down, Billy!"

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For some time after he had closed his knife and fork he sat at table shading and supporting his forehead with his hand, his elbow resting, and deep thought was in his attitude. To one who knew his story he submitted a picture for memory to cherish. Night was near, though not yet come, but[Pg 299] its shadow was upon the ship, and three or four stars like little balls of quicksilver ran to and fro athwart the gleaming black panes of the skylight glass. The hum of a steady breeze in the stout shrouds, in the cat-harpings, in the drumming hollow of many sails sounded like the strains of an organ muffled to the ear by the walls of the church that holds it. The low thunder of the surge washing past the ship was as constant as its accompaniment of the concert of creakings, jarrings, shocks in bulkhead, rudder-post and strong fastenings.,

Naturally the arrival of the Aurora, as of any ship, but particularly a vessel belonging to the port, must be an incident full of active interest. The wives and children of the crew lived in Old Harbour Town; the men were related to two-thirds of the people of the place. The return from a considerable voyage of a ship in those days was not the commonplace familiar happening of every day which it now is. Ships sailed in convoys, and arrived in groups at long intervals. Again a ship was attended with a passion of interest which is no longer felt. Will she fall in with the enemy? Will she escape him? There was much to tell after a voyage in those days no matter into what regions of the globe a vessel[Pg 91] sailed: new lands to discover; amazing and enriching products of the soil to be reported. New races were to be met with. Indeed in 1805 Sydney Cove in New Holland, which had been settled by Phillip in 1787, was scarcely thought of as a new land in this country, it was too recent and remote; it was to supply reports later on, news which was to startle and excite the nation, differing only in kind from the information ships returned with from the East Indies and China and the great continent of South America.,

He left the table, and turned the key softly in Lucy's door, withdrew it, and went on deck. The breeze that had blown the Minorca out of Old Harbour still sang in her shrouds, but with a fresh and a stronger song. The sea ran in lines of brine which flashed friskily. The mountainous clouds sailed down the blue heavens with the solemn majesty of line-of-battle ships draped in sun-empearled cloth from truck to waterway. The bluff-bowed barque was darting foam from her to right[Pg 268] and left as she thrust through the streaming waters and rolled with dignity, slowly to leeward and yet more slowly to windward as she brought the violet shadowed cavities of her canvas to the wind. The hens were noisy in their coops, and cocks crew. The sound of waters broken and in motion was musical. The shadows of the rigging slided gently to and fro over the wide breadth of white planks. The men in the picturesque garb of the merchant sailor of that day, some of them in striped pantaloons flowing to the shoe, some in short-cut blue jackets, and most of them in round hats, were distributed over several parts of the ship. Mr Eagle walked the weather side of the quarterdeck. In reply to Mr Lawrence's question, he said that nothing had been in sight and nothing was in sight. This Mr Lawrence verified by a searching sweep of his gaze round the horizon, and Mr Eagle went below into the cabin to eat his dinner.,

So, then, as she sat at table she almost looked the same beautiful Lucy Acton who had left her house early one morning for[Pg 369] a walk in which she had met the hunchback Paul and read a letter he gave her. The old rich colour was indeed lacking; no charm of hat, no grace of coiffure, no elegance of costume could immediately qualify or dispel the languor of fatigue in the eyes, the delicate shadow pencilled by worry and an enormous mental strain under the eyes, and a general expression in movements of silence or repose, of anxiety, pain, and another quality which you might have seen was present without being able to give it a name.