him stirring tales (probably not all true) of seafaring life.
At first he had full run of the ship, and availed himself of the privilege.
"Father," he said, running breathlessly up to Lord Francis one morning when they were in mid-Atlantic, "what do you think? I've seen Mrs. Clutterbuck."
The little fellow, who in ordinary circumstances seemed to know no fear, trembled in every limb, and as far as was possible with sun and wind tanned face was pitifully pale.
"Where?" asked Lord Francis with a sign of equal perturbation.
"Forrard," said Ronny, who had not in vain sat with the bos'n, and never now spoke of going downstairs when he should say going below. "I was standing by the rail at the end of the hurricane deck looking at the passengers playing cards on the steerage deck, when she came along. She beckoned to me to go down to her, but I turned and bolted."
"Was she by herself?"
"No, there were a lot of people around. She wasn't speaking to anyone nor anyone to her."
"Are you sure it was her?"
"Quite; she smiled just as she did when she came down in the country to take me away to join mother. I liked her smile then, but I don't now."
