had serious results, and she was not veiled. So the risingtear was sent back, and Denville saw her safely home, forgetting for themoment his domestic troubles in his exultation, and making out a futurefor his son, as the rich Lady Drelincourt's protege--a commission--ahandsome allowance. Perhaps--ah, who knew! Such unions had taken placebefore now.
For the next half-hour he was living artificially, seeing his sonadvanced in life, and his daughter dwelling in a kind of fairy castlethat had been raised through Lady Drelincourt's introduction.
Then as he approached home a black cloud seemed to come down and closehim in, the artificiality was gone, age seemed to be attacking him, andhe moaned as he reached the door.
"Heaven help me, and give me strength to keep up this actor's life, forI'm very, very weak."
Volume One, Chapter XI.
THE OPENING OF A VEIN.
"Well, young Denville," said Dick Miggles, the great swarthy fisherman,whose black hair, dark eyes, and aquiline features told that his namewas a corruption of Miguel, and that he was a descendant of one of theunfortunates who had been wrecked and imprisoned when the Spanish Armadacame to grief, and had finally resolved to "remain an Englishman."
Dick Miggles rarely did anything in the daytime but doze and smoke. Ofcourse, he ate and drank, and, as on the present occasion, nursed thelittle girl that Mrs Miggles, who was as round and snub and English ofaspect as her lord was Spanish, had placed in his arms. At nightmatters were different, and people did say--but never mind.
"Well, young Denville," said Fisherman Dick, as he sat on the benchoutside his whitewashed cottage with the whelk-shell path, bordered withmarigold beds, one of which flowers he picked from time to time to givethe child.
"Well, Dick, where are my dabs?"
"Haw-haw," said the fisherman, laughing. "I say, missus, where's themdabs?"
Mrs Miggles was washing up the dinner things, and she came out with adish on which were a number of fried heads and tails, with a variety ofspinal and other bones.
"What a shame!" cried Morton, with a look of disgust. "I do call thatshabby, Dick."
"How was I to know that you would come after 'em, lad? I'd ha' brote'em, but I don't like to come to your house now."
"I say, Dick, don't be a fool," cried the lad. "What's the good ofraking up that horrid affair, now it's all dead and buried?"
"Nay," said Dick, shaking his head. "That ar'n't all dead and buried,like the old woman, my lad. There's more trouble to come out o' thatbusiness yet."
"Oh, stuff and nonsense!"
"Nay, it isn't, my lad. Anyhow, I don't like coming to your place now,and there's other reasons as well, ar'n't there, missus?"
"Now, I do call that shabby, Dick. Just because there's a bill owingfor fish. I've told you I'll pay it some day, if papa does not; I mean,when I have some money."
"Ay, so you did, lad, and so you will, I know; but I didn't mean that,did I, missus?"
"No," came from within.
"What did you mean, then?"
"Never mind. You wait and see. I say, the old gentleman looks as ifhe'd got over the trouble, Master Morton. He was quite spry to-day."
"No, he hasn't," said Morton. "It's quite horrible at home. He's ill,and never hardly speaks, and my sister frets all day long."
"Do she though! Poor gal! Ah, she wants it found out, my lad. Itwherrits her, because you see it's just as if them jools of the oldlady's hung like to your folk, and you'd got to account for 'em."
"Get out! Why, what nonsense, Dick."
"What, dropped it agen, my pretty?" said the great fisherman, stoopingto pick up a flower, and place it in the little fat hand that wasplaying with his big rough finger. "Ah, well, perhaps it be, but nevermind. I say, though, the old gentleman looked quite hisself agen. My!he do go dandy-jacking along the cliff, more'n the best of 'em. He domake me laugh, he do. Why, hello, Master Morton, lad, what's matter?"
"If you dare to laugh at my father, Dick," cried the boy, whose face wasflushed and eyes flashing, "big as you are, I'll punch your head."
"Naw, naw, naw, don't do that, my lad," said the fisherman, growingsolemn directly. "I were not laughing at him. I were laughing at hisclothes."
"And if my father dresses like the Prince and the Duke and all thefashionable gentlemen, what is there to laugh at then? Suppose I wereto laugh at you for living in that great pair of trousers that comeright up under your arms?"
"Well, you might, lad, and welcome; they're very comf'table. P'r'apsyou'd like to laugh at my boots. Haw, haw, haw, Master Morton, whatd'yer think I did yes'day? I took little flower here, after missus hadwashed her, and put her right into one o' my boots, and she stood up init with her head and arms out, laughing and crowing a good 'un. Ar'n'tshe a little beauty?"
"Yes," said Morton, looking down and playing with the child. "Whose isshe?"
"Dunno. Ask the missus."
"And she won't tell me, Dick."
"That's so. But look here, lad. I'm sorry I laughed at MasterDenville, for he's a nice gentleman, and always has a kind word and asmile, if he doesn't pay his bill."
"Dick!"
"All right, my lad, all right. You'll pay that when you're rich. Isay: chaps sez as you'll marry Lady Drelincourt, now, after saving herdog, and--"
"Don't be a fool, Dick. Here, what were you going to say?" said thelad, reddening.
"You won't want a bit of fishing then, I suppose?"
"Look here; are you going to speak, Dick, or am I to go?"
"All right, my lad. Look here; we eat your dabs, but never mind them.I shall just quietly leave a basket at your door to-night. You needn'tknow anything about it, and you needn't be too proud to take it, for adrop in the house is worth a deal sometimes, case o' sickness. It'sreal French sperit, and a drop would warm the old gentleman sometimeswhen he is cold."
"Smuggling again, Dick?"
"Never you mind about that, Master Morton, and don't call things by uglynames. But that ar'n't all I've got to say. You lost your dabs, but ifyou'll slip out to-night and come down the pier, the tide'll be justright, and I'll have the bait and lines ready, and I'll give you as gooda bit of fishing as you'd wish to have."
"Will you, Dick?"
"Ay, that I will. They were on last night, but they'll be wonderfulto-night, and I shouldn't wonder if we ketches more than we expex."
"Oh, but I couldn't go, Dick."
"Why not, lad?"
"You see, I should have to slip out in the old way--through thedrawing-room, and down the balcony pillar."
"Same as you and Master Fred used, eh?"
"Don't talk about him," said the lad.
"Well, he's your own brother."
"Yes, but father won't have his name mentioned," said the boy sadly."He's to be dead to us. Here, what a fool I am, talking so to you!"
"Oh, I don't know, my lad; we was always friends, since you was quite alittle chap, and I used to give you rides in my boat."
"Yes; you always were a friend, Dick, and I like you."
"On'y you do get a bit prouder now you're growing such a strapping chap,Master Morton."
"I shan't change to you, Dick."
"Then come down to-night, say at half arter 'leven."
Morton shook his head.
"Why, you ar'n't afraid o' seeing the old woman's ghost, are you?"
"Absurd! No. But it seems so horrible to come down that balcony pillarto get out on the sly."
"Why, you never used to think so, my lad."
"No, but I do now. Do you know, Dick," he said in a whisper, "I oftenthink that the old lady was killed by some one who had watched me go inand out that way."
"Eh?" cried the fisherman, giving a peculiar stare.
"Yes, I do," said the lad, laying his hand on the big fellow'sshoulders. "I feel sure of it, for that murder must have been done bysome one who knew how easy it was to get up there and open the window."
"Did you ever see anyone watching of you?" said the fisherma
n in ahoarse whisper.
"N-no, I'm not sure. I fancy I did see some one watching one night."
"Phew!" whistled the fisherman; "it's rather hot, my lad, sitting herein the
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