Mehalah. Baring-Gould Sabine

he had in his punt for putting a false keel on her.

      The discussion had lasted some time, and when De Witt returned to the tavern, he found Abraham dozing, with his head on the table, and his money bag in his hand.

      "It is clear enough," said the widow, "that the money was stolen either at the Lion or at the Rose."

      "I brought the money safe here," said Abraham sullenly. "It is of no use your asking questions, and troubling my head about what I did here and there. I was at the Woolpack at Colchester, at the Lion at Abberton, and lastly at the Rose. But I tell you I brought the money here all safe, and laid it there on that table every penny."

      "How can you be sure of that, Abraham?"

      "I say I know it."

      "Did you count the money at the Rose?"

      "I don't care what you may ask. I brought the money here. If it has been bewitched since then, I am not to blame."

      "Abraham, it must have been stolen on the road. There was no one here to take the money."

      "That is nothing to me. I say I laid the money all right there!" he pointed to the table.

      "You had better go, Abraham. No one disputes your honesty," said Mehalah.

      "But I will not go, if anyone suspects me."

      "Go off to bed, Abraham," said widow Sharland. "We have met with a dreadful loss, and the Almighty knows how we are to come out of it."

      The old man went forth grumbling imprecations on himself if he answered any more questions.

      "Well," asked Mehalah of De Witt, "what do you think has become of the money?"

      "I suppose he was robbed at one of the taverns. The bag was not touched on the table from the moment Abraham set it down till you opened it."

      "My mother was here all the time. There was no one else in the room but Elijah Rebow."

      "He is out of the question," said De Witt. Besides, my mother never left her seat whilst he was here. Did you, mother?"

      The old woman shook her head. "What are we to do?" she asked; "we have no money now for the rent. "

      "Have you none at all?"

      "None but a trifle which we need for purchases against the winter There was more in the bag than was needed for the rent, and how we shall struggle through the winter without it, heaven alone can tell."

      "You have no more sheep to sell?"

      "None but ewes, which cannot be parted with."

      "Then I will lend you the money," said George. "I have something laid by. Mehalah will repay me some day."

      "I will, George! I will!" said the girl vehemently. She took the two hands of her lover in her own, and looked him full in the face. Her eyes expressed the depth of her gratitude which her tongue could not utter.

      "Now that is settled," said De Witt, "let us talk of something else."

      "Come along, George," said Mehalah, hastily, interrupting him. "If you want to be put across on Fresh Marsh, you must not stay talking here any longer."

      "All right, Glory! I am ready to go with you, anywhere."

      As she drew him outside, she whispered, "I was afraid of your speaking about the two shots to-night. I do not wish my mother to hear of that; it would alarm her."

      "But I want to talk to you about them," said De Witt. "Have you any notion who it was that fired at us?"

      "Have you?" asked Mehalah, evading an answer.

      "I have a sort of a notion."

      "So have I. As I was going down the Rhyn to fetch you, I was stopped by Elijah Rebow."

      "Well, what did he want?"

      "He tried to prevent my going on, and said that I ought not be on the water at night alone."

      "He was right. He knew a thing or two."

      "He did not like my going to Mersea � to you."

      "I dare say not. He knew what was in the wind."

      "What do you mean, George?"

      "He tried to prevent your going on?"

      "Yes, he did, more than once."

      "Then he is in it. I don't like Elijah, but I did not think so badly of him as that."

      "What do you mean, George?"

      They walked down the meadow to the saltings. They were obliged to go slowly and cautiously. The tide had fallen rapidly, and left the pools brimming. Every runnel was full of water racing out with the rush of a mill stream. "You see, Glory, the new captain of the coastguard has been giving a deal of trouble lately. He has noticed the signal-flashing from the Leather Bottle at the city, and has guessed or found out the key; he has been down there flashing false signals with a lanthorn. By this means he has brought some of the smugglers very neatly into traps he has laid for them. They are as mad as devils; they swear he is taking an unfair advantage of them, and that they will have his life for it. That is what I have heard whispered."

      "Oh George! have you not warned him?"

      "What can I do? It is a battle between them, and it don't do for a third party to step between. That is what we have done to-night, and near got knocked over for doing it. Captain Macpherson is about, night and day. There never was a fellow more wide awake on this station . What do you think he did the other day? A vessel came in, and he overhauled her, but found nothing; he sought for some barrels drawn along attached behind her, below water level, but couldn't find them. As he was leaving, he just looked up at the tackling. 'Hallo!' said he to the captain, 'your cordage is begun to untwist � suppose I have your old ropes and give you new?' He sent a man aloft, and all the ropes were made of twisted tobacco. The smugglers don't much like such a man."

      "But George, he would hardly go about at night with a lanthorn in his boat."

      "That is what he does � only it is a dark lanthorn, and with it he flashes his signals. That is what makes the men so mad. It is not my doctrine to shoot a man who does his duty. If a man is a smuggler let him do his duty as one. If he is a coast-guard, let him do his duty by the revenue."

      "If he were out watching for smugglers, he would not have carried his light openly."

      "He might have thought all was safe in the Rhyn."

      "Then again," pursued Mehalah, "I spoke, and there was a second shot after that."

      "Whoever was there waiting for the captain may have thought you were a boy. I do not believe the shot was at you, but at me."

      "But I held the light up. It would have been seen that I was a woman."

      "Not a bit. All seen would be your cap and jersey, which are such as sailor boys wear."

      Mehalah shook her head doubtfully, and paced by the side of De Witt. She was not satisfied with his explanation.

      Presently she said, "Do you think that it was Rebow who fired?"

      "No, of course I do not. He knew you were out, and with a light; and he knows your voice."

      "But you said he was in the plot."

      "I said that I supposed he knew about it; he knew that there were men out in punts waiting for the captain, he probably knew that there was some fellow lurking in the Rhyn; but I did not say that he would shoot the captain. He gets something out of the trade, but not enough to be of importance to him. A man of his means would not think it worth his while to shoot an officer."

      "Then you think that he warned me, and went home."

      "That is most likely. I would have done the same. I would not have let you go on, if I knew there were fellows about this night with guns on the look-out. He did not dare to speak plainly what he knew, but he gave you a broad hint, and his best advice, and I admire and respect him for it."