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On this Captain Acton and his friend went on deck. The schooner was travelling three or four knots one way, and the stranger was heading directly for her at some small pace, so that the speed of the two vessels being combined, the sail might be expected to show a clear hull; which she did, and with the aid of their telescopes, Captain Acton and Sir William confirmed the conjecture of Captain Weaver. She was either a little brig or a brigantine—her after-sails were concealed; her burden was very small. The dusty and rusty complexion of her canvas neutralised the brilliance which most ships' sails shine with when the silver glory of the morning sun pours strong upon them. By half-past nine, three bells by the schooner's clock, the stranger was on the larboard-bow with her main topsail to the mast, and so close that it seemed almost possible to distinguish the faces of her people. "I say no, Tom," the other returned, surlily. "It won't be safe there. Somebody'll be sure to find it." "It shall be extended sir, it shall be extended," broke in Captain Acton..
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It had been arranged between Captain Acton and Admiral Lawrence that the latter should breakfast at half-past nine with Captain[Pg 163] Acton, who would then fill an hour with transaction of certain business which he could deal with in his own house, leaving the Admiral to amuse himself in the grounds with his pipe, and, if he chose, a telescope; after which they would walk leisurely down to Old Harbour, go on board the Minorca, and take a farewell view of the vessel with a God-speed to her new commander. CHAPTER XIII LUCY'S MADNESS "There's the old Canopus!" cried the Admiral. "Lord, what a shivering [Pg 398]recollection I have of her main topmast cross-trees!" "No, sir," she answered. "I am not returning to Old Harbour House—not immediately. I am going to the Harbour—I am going for a little walk.".
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