Ozzy sat at his side, his ears pricked attentively. At last a ghostly silhouette emerged, at first a pale indistinct gray, but gradually becoming more clear until both Sir Julian and the cat could see every detail of the naval launch as it glided toward them. The man standing at the stern saw the figure on the beach and called a challenge. “This is Uriah Pettigrew, boatswain of His Majesty’s frigate Lucina. Identify yourself!” he called. Sir Julian was taken aback. Identify himself on his own property? He’d be damned if he would! “Your name, sir?” Mr. Pettigrew prompted. “Sir Julian Richardson, owner of this land!” Sir Julian replied irritably. Amanda stood up and waved excitedly, making the launch roll from side to side. “Uncle Julian? Oh, Uncle, it’s me, Amanda!” she cried. “Amanda?” Sir Julian’s jaw dropped, for he had been awaiting word of his nieces’ whereabouts, and had expected to send his traveling carriage to collect them from one of the ports. Instead the navy had brought them to his very door!
