Captain Acton broke in: "We have finer sunsets in England than any you get in the tropics."
"Birds of exquisite plumage, and beyond all forms of known grace in flight."
"Ay, but they don't sing," said Captain Acton. "Give me the song of the thrush or the blackbird before all the finest feathers in the world."
"Wonderfully dyed fish——" said Lucy.
"Oh, madam," said Mr Lawrence, with a little blush in his face, "I did not intend my poor representation of the fascinations of a voyage to the West Indies for the ear of so experienced a sailor, and so keen an observer as Captain Acton."
"Well, we may go with you some day, sir," said Captain Acton good-humouredly, "but peace must be declared before I embark. We are keeping Miss Acton waiting."
He led the way up the companion ladder.
Amongst those who just then were standing upon the quay-side gazing with more or less of interest at the Minorca and the other vessels moored to the walls, was old Mr Greyquill, whose figure was immediately conspicuous by reason of his long white hair and heavily white thatched eyebrows. And this day he wore a round velvet cap such as might have been suggested to him by a portrait by some old Flemish artist, and a velvet coat. He stood on the wharf a few paces behind some people who formed a little group, and peered at the Minorca with the sharp of his hand pressed against his brow seeking to determine the faces he saw on board. He was too far off to recognise the Admiral and Captain Acton, who now appeared, but the moment Mr Lawrence's head was visible above the bulwark-rail he knew him, and seemed to try to catch his eye, but Lawrence, who instantly perceived him, averted his gaze or turned his back, and after steadily staring for some moments under the shelter of his hand the old fellow shuffled off.
"Have you secured a berth, Miss?" asked the Admiral, with a hearty, jolly smile.
"Mr Lawrence paints the voyage to the West Indies in very tempting colours," answered Lucy.