"

"Oh, dear, no; not at all," returned Meekin, feeling that this charming
young lady was regarded as a creature who was not to be judged by
ordinary rules. "We got on famously, my dear Major."

"That's right," said Vickers. "She is very plain-spoken, is my little
girl, and strangers can't understand her sometimes. Can they, Poppet?"

Poppet tossed her head saucily. "I don't know," she said. "Why shouldn't
they? But you were going to say something extraordinary when you came
in. What is it, dear?"

"Ah," said Vickers with grave face. "Yes, a most extraordinary thing.
They've caught those villains."

"What, you don't mean? No, papa!" said Sylvia, turning round with
alarmed face.

In that little family there were, for conversational purposes, but one
set of villains in the world--the mutineers of the Osprey.

"They've got four of them in the bay at this moment--Rex, Barker,
Shiers, and Lesly. They are on board the Lady Jane. The most
extraordinary story I ever heard in my life. The fellows got to China
and passed themselves off as shipwrecked sailors. The merchants in
Canton got up a subscription, and sent them to London. They were
recognized there by old Pine, who had been surgeon on board the ship
they came out in."

Sylvia sat down on the nearest chair, with heightened colour. "And where
are the others?"

"Two were executed in England; the other six have not been taken. These
fellows have been sent out for trial."

"To what are you alluding, dear sir?" asked Meekin, eyeing the sherry
with the gaze of a fasting saint.

"The piracy of a convict brig five years ago," replied Vickers. "The
scoundrels put my poor wife and child ashore, and left them to starve.
If it hadn't been for Frere--God bless him!--they would have died. They
shot the pilot and a soldier--and--but it's a long story."

"I have heard of it already," said Meekin, sipping the sherry, which
another convict servant had brought for him; "and of your gallant
conduct, Captain Frere."

"Oh, that's nothing," said Frere, reddening. "We were all in the same
boat. Poppet, have a glass of wine?"

"No," said Sylvia, "I don't want any."

She was staring at the strip of sunshine between the verandah and
the blind, as though the bright light might enable her to remember
something. "What's the matter?" asked Frere, bending over her. "I was
trying to recollect, but I can't, Maurice. It is all confused. I only
remember a great shore and a great sea, and