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"No. What a big ship she looks compared with the other two! It is difficult to think of her alone in the middle of the sea. I can only imagine her lying at a wharf with protecting hills on each side. Does she sail fast?",

When she had done with her drawing, she went to the piano and passed another half-hour at that instrument, then took up some work which she presently neglected for a novel, and shortly after eleven o'clock she mounted to her bedroom to prepare herself for a drive with her aunt.,

"You will know, sir," replied Captain Acton, "one of Nelson's favourite sayings: at sea something must be left to chance. I count upon the crew of the Minorca, when they sight the Aurora and understand her mission, which they will guess without explanation, backing her main-topsail in defiance of your son's firearms and calling upon us to take possession. If this does not happen, I shall not be at a loss, and meanwhile, Sir William, let us get a view of the barque.",

Greyquill, who saw little to fear in the pursuit of a man with a wooden leg, turned his head upon his shoulder and cried back: "There are too many of us."

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Maurice was compelled to quicken his steps in order to keep up to the long strides of the anxious woman. Suddenly he halted. "Missis Wilson," he said, "you fergot to take that last pan o' cookies out'a the oven.",

Billy, who had squared away at his breakfast, spoke with his mouth full. "We're goin' to have 'em fer dinner," he informed his hostess.,

"Perhaps so," returned the old gentleman dryly, "but, you see, I happen to have heard an opinion of friend Ringdo's gentle nature from a certain learned pedagogue, whose wounds I dressed recently. So, my dear young lady, if you will be good enough to keep tight hold of him for a moment, I'll follow my renowned friend into the parlor and learn how Frank is coming along." And suiting the action to the words he edged slowly around the table and, backing into the parlor, closed the door.,

The old gentleman entered, not with his familiar deep-sea rolling gait, but slowly and wearily, and with an air of dejection. Lucy's dog welcomed him by barking and rushing at his shoe and trying to bite through it. Miss[Pg 202] Acton rose and sank in a curtsy which is to be seen in these days only on the stage, but her kindly heart quickened her gaze for anything that invited sympathy, and she immediately said: "Sir William, you are quite worn out. You need refreshment. Pray sit, pray sit! What will you take?"