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Mrs. Wilson was outside, by this time, and tying on her sun-bonnet. Maurice held back. She grasped his arm and hustled him down the walk. When Mrs. Keeler came out, laden with bake-pans and other kitchen utensils, Billy led her carefully across the stubble by a new route, nor did she dream his motive in so doing was to keep the house between them and the lonesome mangle-topper in the valley. He levelled the tubes at the shipping, but witnessed no signs of the Minorca. He was amazed. The glass sank in his hand, and he rubbed his naked eye and fastened it again upon the Harbour. The vessel was to sail at half-past twelve, and it was now about a quarter past ten, and the Minorca was gone. The old gentleman took aim with his glass at the little breadth of sea that was in sight, in a hopeless way conceiving that a sail, invisible to his bare vision, might leap into the lenses out of the distant blue recess, and proclaim herself to his nautical eye as the ship that was gone. Nothing was in sight..
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"Have hard work gettin' away from her, Maurice?" he asked. "That's a nice lookin' youngster," remarked Sward, as Billy was lost among the pines. "Notice the big eyes of him, Jack?" "Ma's got the light burnin' an' the strap waitin' fer her little boy," chaffed Billy as they put up the barn-yard bars. "I've been waitin' for you and now I'm goin' to lick you," he said..
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