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Certainly what he wrote about did not refer to the letter he had received on his arrival at "The Swan." This may be assumed, as he never referred to that letter which lay in his pocket. He wrote leisurely and with absorption, never heeding the noise next door, and when he was done he carefully read through what he had written, and with his handsome face stern with the quality of resolution and the temper which enters into great or violent undertakings as their impulse or seminal principle, he pocketed the letter, and left the room by another door. "So, I don't shoot partridge neither," said Billy. "I don't blame anybody else fer shootin' 'em, remember, but somehow, I'd rather leave 'em alive." "We must hoist foreign colours," said the Admiral quickly and decisively. "American, I should think; there are many Yankees afloat like the Aurora.".

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Mr Lawrence descended the steps into the cabin, which has already been described, with its plain sea furniture and stand of arms, and entered the after berth which he had pretended to convert into a sick bay. Here were two rough bunks, one on top of the other, each containing a mattress and bolster. It was the middle berth betwixt the Captain's and the pantry. Mr Lawrence's sea-chest, clothes, and nautical instruments were here collected. He stepped to a shelf and took from it a tin box containing the ship's papers, and from this box he drew out a large, portentous, heavily-sealed [Pg 247]envelope, whose enclosure of stout paper rendered it somewhat thick and bulky. He looked at the address. Upon the envelope in a bold clerkly hand was written: Come, it's me ears a glad ditty would hear— "That new boy; his name's Jim Scroggie. His dad's rented the Stanley house on the hill." "Well, Mr Greyquill, twenty-five guineas when I'm paid off on my return home. I can say no more, and can promise no more.".