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"No ship of mine departs without my heart accompanying her," said Captain Acton. "I believe I am bound to go in one of them to the West Indies some day or other, but not whilst there's an enemy's cruiser to be met with in the circle of the horizon.",

"It can be avoided, and still your property may be preserved to you," exclaimed the Admiral. "My unhappy son will throw him self upon your mercy——",

Billy bent and patted an imaginary something on the ground. "Good ol' Ringdo," he said. "Nice ol' Ringdo." That was the last straw. With a croak of anguish Croaker swooped down and lit on his master's shoulder. Promptly five fingers gripped his feet.,

But the breakfast bell had been rung, and leaving Captain Weaver and his mate to keep an eye upon the stranger and to act with the prudence which was to be expected of a man of Weaver's sagacity and experience, Captain Acton and his companion entered the deck-house. Here was a cheerful little interior, gay with sunshine, which sparkled in the furniture of the breakfast-table, on which smoked as relishable and hearty a meal as was to be obtained at sea in those days. The two gentlemen found much to talk about, and perhaps because of an argument they had fallen into, their sitting was somewhat lengthened: until just when they were about to rise, Captain Weaver came to the cabin door, and after, with the old-fashioned courtesy of his period, begging their pardon, he exclaimed: "The sail's now clear in the glass from the deck."

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One bright morning in April in that memorable year 1805, Captain Charles Acton, R.N. (retired), stood on his lawn in front of the house watching a gardener who was at work at a flower-bed. He was a slightly-built but tall, very gentleman-like man, one of the last in a crowd to be picked out as a seafarer. He was pale, his nose aquiline, lips thin, and the expression of the mouth firm. He was dressed in a frill shirt, loose cravat of white cambric, red-striped waistcoat, long green coat with a high collar and small cuffs, tight breeches to the ankle buttoned to the middle of the thigh, and top-boots; a rather low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat sat somewhat cocked on his head. His hair was long, without powder, and tied a little way down the back in a sort of tail.,

Eagle stood dumbfounded. He was prepared to hear her represent her state in such fiction as had been preconcerted between her and Mr Lawrence. But he never could have supposed that simulation of madness was the posture of mind she had pre-arranged to feign, and she looked so mad and spoke so madly that it was impossible for such a stubborn, sour old fool to see the truth or know what she meant.,

Erie was standing against the gate, her arms stretched along its top, hands clenching its rough pickets.,

"The sails of that ship," cried the Captain, "must have been in sight some time before you reported her. When I came on deck she was hull up. Is this your idea of keeping a look-out?"