"I saw the light from my bedroom window," said Lucy. "Who chased the Frenchman? Lieutenant Tupman?" "He! More likely he was chasing one of his pigs, if indeed he was not in bed, sound under the influence of flip. As those brigs are not useful, and as they are not ornamental, why is the nation put to the cost of maintaining them? Had my son received Tupman's berth--oh, ma'am, I must tell you of a noble, generous deed of kindness your excellent, large-hearted father has been good enough to do me and Mr Lawrence. He has promised him the command of the _Minorca_." Lucy looked at her father with an expression of surprise that vanished from her fine dramatic eyes in an instant. "I am very pleased to hear it," she said. "I am sure Mr Lawrence will be glad to get away from Old Harbour Town. He has visited many parts of the globe, and to be limited to two streets, and such streets as High Street and Lower Street with their little shops and tame and commonplace interests, must be such a trial to a man of spirit, as every day can but make more and more a punishment." "It gives me great pleasure to serve my old friend," said Captain Acton. "Mr Lawrence is an officer with a career full of gallant things; I have no doubt he is a capable navigator. Will you ask him to call upon me this evening?" "At what hour?" "Eight o'clock will suit me very well." "He shall wait upon you at the stroke, sir." "Good-bye, Sir William," said Lucy, and in silence the two gentlemen watched her walk to the gate and pass out. CHAPTER II WALTER LAWRENCE Lucy Acton made her way towards Old Harbour Town by a lane that struck down off the road used by the coaches and post-chaises. This lane was broad and in places steep and rugged, with long spaces heavily flanked with tall and spacious trees. Elsewhere the low hedge revealed the sloping meadow or ploughed field whose margin where it sank low was defined against the blue water of the ocean. It was April, and some birds were in song; the sun shone brightly, and the breeze blowing from the sea sang pleasantly amongst the trees whose boughs were studded with little buds. The lane conducted Lucy to the valley where the river was, and here she stepped upon an old bridge. When half-way across she stopped to look in the direction of Old Harbour. The river flowed prettily under this bridge and melted its brilliance in the waters of the Harbour, where, when the tide was at lowest ebb, it always had a bed for its discharge into the brine beyond.