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After a few airy nothings of salutation and the like had been exchanged and all were seated, Captain Acton said: "Lucy, I am now to introduce Mr Lawrence to you in a new character; he is the captain of the Minorca." "Not what you'd notice, Ma. He ain't any like Mr. Stanhope. His face—I ain't likin' it a bit. Besides, Ma, he flogs his poor horse somethin' awful." "Oh, Captain Weaver, there are many wicked people at sea!" cried Miss Acton. "Think of the pirates! Think of the slavers! My poor, poor niece!".
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Did he believe her mad, or did he conceive that she was merely feigning a part? He leaned over the rail, and then walked the deck, whilst Mr Pledge paced to leeward. On a sudden Mr Lawrence became aware that the whole ship's company were on deck forward in the neighbourhood of the caboose, and that a few talked together with frequent glances aft, whilst others stared in the direction in which he moved, deliberately and obstinately. He was a medium sized man, with brown wavy hair and a beard which failed to conceal the glad boyishness of a face that would never quite be old. The eyes he turned upon the woman when she sharply spoke his name were blue and tranquil. "Ringdo," cried Erie, slapping the coon's fat sides, "you can't possibly see your friend, Frank, now so come along. We'll have a race down the path and a scramble among the leaves.".
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