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Old Amos stopped, open-mouthed and staring, for out from the gloom of the smithy issued Black George himself, with Prue upon his arm. The Ancient stared also, but, dissembling his vast surprise, he dealt the lid of his snuffbox two loud, triumphant knocks. "Peter," said he, rising stiffly, "Peter, lad, I were beginnin' to think as Jarge were never comin' in to breakfus' at all.

"Last night, as ever was," continued the old man, "'e went down to th' 'aunted cottage 't weren't no manner o' use tryin' to turn 'im, no, not if I'd gone down to 'im on my marrer-bones 'e were that set on it; so off he goes, 'bout sundown, to sleep in th' 'aunted cottage I knows, Jarge, 'cause I follered un, an' seen for myself; so now I'm a-goin' down to find 'is corp' "

Then he puckered his forehead and stared out to sea, apparently making mental calculations connected with the "li'l' ole copper boiler." "Ya-a-ais." He replaced the piece of perished tarpaulin that had once been a sou'-wester on his head, and set off slowly across the shingle towards the village. Young Jarge followed, staring at his boots as he walked.

Then, clenching his brawny fists, he raised frowning eyes to a bayonet above the mantel, a long, deadly-looking thing that glittered with constant cleaning. "Ah, by God!" he growled fiercely, "by God, Mr. Vereker, sir there's them as I'd like t' have wrigglin' their beastly lives out on the end o' my old bagnet " "Hot water, Jarge!" commanded the buxom Mary from the stairs.

You see Squire haw! haw!" "Ah, me! an' Peter, an' Simon, 'ere why not?" "You see 'is Worship Sir Peregrine Beverley, Baronet, an' Justice o' the Peace you? Ecod! that's a good un danged if it ain't! An' what might you be wishful to do when ye see 'im which ye won't?" "Fetch back Jarge, o' course."

"I think," said I, "that she is the prettiest lass I ever saw; don't you think so, George?" But again George's only answer was to choke. "Smoke again, Jarge?" inquired the Ancient. "Ay," said George, as before. "'Tis a fine thing to be young," said the Ancient, after a somewhat lengthy pause, and with a wave of his long pipe-stem, "a very fine thing!"

A moment after, the Ancient appeared, a quaint, befrocked figure, framed in the yawning doorway and backed by the glory of the morning. He stood awhile to lean upon his stick and peer about, his old eyes still dazzled by the sunlight he had just left, owing to which he failed to see me where I sat in the shadow of the forge. "Marnin', Jarge!" said he, with his quick, bright nod.

"Oh, Peter!" exclaimed the old man, shaking his head, "I wonders at ye; arter me a-thinkin' an' a-thinkin', an' a-plannin' an' a-plannin' all these months arter me a-sendin' Black Jarge about 'is business " "Ancient, what do you mean?" "Why, didn't I out an' tell un as you was sweet on Prue " "Did you tell him that?" I cried.

Young Jarge joined him with a small, square copper boiler in his arms. "Where'll us put un tu, feyther?" Ole Jarge set off across the beach in the direction of the boat. "Bring un along!" he commanded in a manner dimly suggestive of a lord high executioner. Young Jarge followed, and dumped his burden down alongside the boat. "Now!" said Ole Jarge grimly.

"And he would be hanged!" said Prudence, shuddering. "Probably poor fellow!" said I. At this she glanced quickly up, and once again the crimson dyed her cheeks. "Oh, Mr. Peter, forgive me! I I were only thinkin' of Jarge, and " "And quite right too, Prudence," I nodded; "he is indeed worth any good woman's thoughts; let it be your duty to think of him, and for him, henceforth."