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"A relation, sir?" said the master of the Louisa Ann, addressing Captain Weaver, whom he had immediately perceived was not of the standing of the two Naval gentlemen.,
"Please sir, don't whip her," he said, pleadingly. "I'll own up. It was me that put the sulphur in the stove.",
The Admiral cut a plate of meat, and the pair fell to their dinner, the housekeeper reappearing to place such another silver tankard foaming full as graced Sir William's elbow, at the side of Mr Lawrence.,
"'Tain't enough fer a three-way split," said Maurice.
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"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——",
Lucy over-night had said she would join them, but she did not appear at the breakfast table. Her father enquired for her, and was told that she had left the house an hour earlier, or perhaps more, to take the morning air and a walk with her dog.,
"Mr Lawrence told you," said Captain Acton, "that he had received the news of this cruiser last night. At what hour, do you think?",
"Are we now?" Landon rubbed his hands and smacked his lips in anticipation. "You're goin' to stay and help clean up on 'em, Billy?"
Captain Acton and Lucy often walked the deck deep in talk. The Captain had decided in his own mind to place Eagle in charge of the Minorca, with orders to proceed to Kingston, providing there was no disaffection[Pg 430] amongst the crew, and Mr Lawrence would be transferred to the Aurora and conveyed to England. What excuses would he plead? What apologies would he offer? What sort of a figure would he make in the sight of his father? in the thoughts of the girl whom in the sacred name of love he had used with such reckless cruelty, as to deprive her of her reason, as he supposed? in the opinion of the kindly gentleman whose confidence he had grossly abused? Would he, when landed in England, consent to ship as a sailor before the mast, and conceal himself for the remainder of his life in a distant land? If not, what would he do? What must be his fate?
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Billy pursed up his lips in thought. "Say!" he cried, "I've got it. You go on back there where you played possum, an' wait fer Anse. When he comes he's goin' to beg a favor of you, sure as shootin'. He played a dirty trick on me not long ago an' he's been keepin' out of my way ever since. Lied to me so's to get me to thrash a feller that licked him. I'll tell you all about it later. Anse is goin' to ask you to square it with me; he's jest that kind. You promise to get him off this time if he goes away an' leaves you by yourself. Then you come back here, see?"
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"Leg nuthin'!" Billy removed his hand from his trousers-pocket and waved something before two pairs of fear-widened eyes.
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Billy turned. "I didn't say I ate Anson's pie an' cake, Ma," he said gently. "I didn't take it 'cause I wanted it."
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>O'Dule had cut a window in the cabin, installed an old stove, table and chairs, and succeeded in making the place home-like enough to suit his simple taste. To-night he stood by the stove, frying potatoes and humming an Irish song. On the table lay a loaf of bread and some butter in a saucer, while close beside it a coal oil lamp gave a smoky light to the room. In the center of the table reposed a huge blue-grey cat, its amber eyes on Harry and its forepaws curled contentedly beneath its furry breast. All about the room hung the skins of wild animals—deer, bear, lynx and coon. A pile of skins lay in one corner. This was O'Dule's bed.
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