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A minute or two later Paul came out, shutting the door after him. "Sit ye down, lads, sit ye down," cried the hospitable Harry. "Begobs, but it's a fine brace av byes ye are, an' no mistake. Wull ye be afther suppin' a bit wid me? The repast is all but spread an' it's full welcome ye are, both." "Why, to be sure," said the lieutenant, laughing also, "you have a very slaving, piratical look. Who would expect to find a British Admiral aboard so rakish a craft?".

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Maurice Keeler, wan, hollow-eyed, and miserable, was seated on a stool just outside the door in the early morning sunlight. Near him sat his mother, peeling potatoes, her portly form obscured by a trailing wistaria vine. What Maurice had endured during his two weeks with the measles nobody knew but himself. His days had been lonely, filled with remorse that he had ever been born to give people trouble and care; his nights longer even than the days. Hideous nightmares had robbed him of slumber. Old Scroggie's ghost had visited him almost nightly. The Twin Oaks robbers, ugly, hairy giants armed with red-hot pitch-forks, had bound him to a tree and applied fire to his feet. What use to struggle or cry aloud for help? Even Billy, his dearest chum, had sat and laughed with all the mouths of his eight heads at his pain. Of course he had awakened to learn these were but dreams; but to a boy dreams are closely akin to reality. "Nothing more since the privateersman was run in," said Captain Acton. That night, after separating from Maurice, Billy went over to the Stanhope cottage. It was late but Frank Stanhope was standing beside the white gate, his arms folded on its top, his chin upon them. Hinter laughed. "Well, hardly," he returned. "They are thoroughbred Great Danes, although Sphinx and Dexter both have wolf natures, I fear.".