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"What an awful picture!" cried Miss Proudfoot. 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. "I s'pose we might be goin'," said Billy. "All right, fellers, come along.".

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"We have come down to look over your ship, Walter," said the Admiral, sending from the wharf-side a sailor's knowing glance up at the masts and spars of the barque. "You'll not have had time yet, but I trust whilst you're in harbour you will set a good example to others by keeping your gear hauled taut and your yards square to a hair by lift and brace." "He's movin' a saw-mill up into the big woods," thought Billy. "But where in the world did it come from!" he pondered as he looked after the creaking loads. "And that was the reason for sailing which he gave you?" said Captain Acton. She was within a couple of miles when she shaped herself out of the rain-thickened murkiness. The Aurora was making a free wind, and every stitch of canvas was doing its work. Was yonder stranger French or English? The Admiral and Captain Acton, who were both on deck, left Captain Weaver to his own devices, sensible that they were in the hands of a shrewd, well-seasoned, practical sailor, who knew his ship better than they did. "We'll test her," said he, and the tricolour was run aloft. No flag aboard the brig was to be seen in response. The schooner was crossing the stranger's bows when the brig suddenly let fly a shotted gun at her. Whatever her nationality it was plain she was not satisfied with the show of bunting flying aboard a vessel that any practised eye could at once see was not of French paternity..