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I expect it's someone sent from Tresedder farm; and if so, he'll want to see your father alone." Mr. Raymond frowned. "No," he said; "the time is past for that." A fist hammered on the door. Mr. Raymond threw it open. "Brigantine on the sands! Half a mile this side of the light-house!" Taffy saw across his father's shoulder a gleam of yellow oilskins and a flapping sou'-wester hat.
The panting voice belonged to Sam Udy son of old Bill Udy a labourer at Tresedder. "I'll go at once," said Mr. Raymond. "Run you for the coast-guard!" The oilskins went by the window; the side gate clashed to. "Is it a wreck?" cried Taffy. "May I go with you?" "Yes, there may be a message to run with."
The man who knocked came from Tresedder, one of the moor farms. "Oh, sir! did 'ee see the rockets go up over Innis? There'll be dead men down 'pon the Island rocks." Taffy slept on. When he came downstairs next morning there was a stranger in the kitchen a little old man, huddled in a blanket before the great fireplace, where a line of clothes hung drying.
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