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"Good morning, Mr Lawrence," said Mr Greyquill, making the gentleman a low bow. "I may take it that you're going to the ship[Pg 134] which I am pleased to hear Captain Acton has given you the command of." "I guess maybe it's your fancy playin' pranks on you, Mary," he suggested hesitatingly. "Two years of livin' in this lonesome spot has kinder got on your nerves." She rounded from the bulkhead as she pronounced these words. Her eyes seemed to be on fire; her cheeks glowed. Again she bared her teeth in her wild, insane grin. She appeared transformed. He knew that certain violent and heart-changing passions and emotions could so work in a beautiful face as to make it look repulsive and devilish, such as jealousy or criminal insult, but he never could have believed of Lucy Acton that her loveliness could undergo the amazing transformation he witnessed; for he did not think to recall that her mother had been a great[Pg 261] actress, and that this girl might have inherited perhaps the finest side of her genius..
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He entered the cabin and took his place. Mr Eagle at the foot of the table carved the boiled beef. When they were fairly under way with their dinner Paul went forward, and the two men were alone in the cabin, out of hearing of Mr Lawrence's ears through the open skylight if they suppressed their voices, equally out of hearing of the inmate, under lock and key, of the captain's cabin. The Admiral just now happened to be at dinner. A shoulder of mutton and onion sauce with potatoes roasted with the shoulder and such other vegetables as the season yielded was a dish fit to set before a king, and the monarch who turned up his nose at such a dainty should be made to banquet on nothing but the fare they give kings upon the stage. Indeed, Sir William would tell his friends he knew for a fact that a shoulder of mutton was the favourite dish of His Royal Highness Prince William. If it was objected that the joint yielded more bone than meat he had his answer: "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!" "An' that's why you throwed it," exclaimed the admiring Maurice. "Gosh, nobody else would'a thought of that.".
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