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Billy and Maurice, taking the short cut to the Wilson farm across the rain-drenched fields next morning, were planning the day's programme.,

Billy took his eyes from the pair of dead ducks, floating shoreward and turned wonderingly to his companion.,

The little leaning vessel, diminished by the distance from which she was surveyed into a size fit only to be manned by Liliputian sailors, crept like a small white cloud along the placid water of Old Harbour, and rounding the pier hauled the wind for a south-westerly course. They watched her as she streamed onwards with a sparkle as pretty as a rainbow at her fore-foot, and a short scope of trembling lustre astern as though she towed a length of satin. A few minutes before she disappeared from the sight of those who viewed her from the lawn of Old Harbour House, past the bluff or round of cliff on which stood the dropsical old lighthouse, she dipped her flag manifestly in response to a hidden salutation, and scarcely had she vanished when there stole out from the edge of the cliff round which she had gone, the slanting figure of a large three-masted schooner with the English ensign at her peak. She was steering directly for Old Harbour. Though she had evidently come a long journey, she made upon those silver-white rippling waters a far handsomer figure than the brig. She was clothed from truck[Pg 81] to waterway with sails which reflected the light of the morning with something of the splendour of polished metal. Her hull was black, but she was inclined sufficiently by the breeze to reveal a narrow breadth of copper sheathing, which sprang pulses of wet dazzling light upon the eye in keen flashes like gun fire.,

"I wouldn't mind," said Billy.

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"I saw her come over the side, sir, but didn't know she had stopped," said the mate, with an expression which might have passed for incredulity in the sour, congenital curl of his lips.,

She picked up the saucer and stood looking down at the gold piece which Croaker had brought in. "I don't s'pose there's a particle of use keepin' an eye on that crow?" she asked.,

"It was Deacon Ringold sent me," Billy answered. "He told me to tell you that he's got to turn his pigs into the orchard tomorrow an' that you an' the other people here might as well come an' gather up the apples on the ground if you want 'em.",

"Ain't it jest?" agreed Maurice. "Say, Bill, there ain't no law ag'in shootin' robbers is there—store-robbers, I mean?"