they've had time to miss 'ee here."

"Bristol?" ejaculated Reuben. "I thought you were going to Cornwall
again?"

"Not to wance, I ain't, but wouldn't 'ee rather go to Bristol? 'Tis a
brave place, you know. For my part, I'd so soon see Bristol as London:
'tis pretty much o' the same lookout here as there." But while Captain
Triggs had been saying these words his thoughts had made a sudden leap
toward the truth, and, finding Reuben not ready with a remark, he
continued: "'Tain't on no account of the young female you comed aboard
here with that's makin' 'ee think o' Cornwall, is it?"

"Yes, it is," said Reuben bluntly. "I want to see her. I've had a letter
from her, and it needs a little talkin' over."

"Awh! then I 'spects there's no need for me to tell 'ee that her's took
up with Adam Pascal. You knaws it already?"

Reuben felt as if a pike had been driven into his heart, but his
self-command stood him in good stead, and he said quite steadily, "Do
you happen to know him or anything about him?"

"Awh, iss: I knaws 'en fast enuf," said Triggs, who felt by intuition
that Reuben's desire was to know no good of him, "and a precious
stomachy chap he is. Lord! I pities the maid who'll be his missis:
whether gentle or simple, her's got her work cut out afore her."

"In what way? How do ye mean?"

"Why, he's got the temper o' the old un to stand up agen, and wherever
he shows his face he must be head and chief and must lay down the law,
and you must hearken to act by it or else look out for squalls."

Reuben drew his breath more freely. "And what is he?" he asked.

"Wa-all, I reckon he's her cousin, you knaw," answered Triggs,
misinterpreting the question, "'cos he's ole Zebedee's awnly son, and
the ole chap's got houses and lands and I dunno what all. But, there! I
wouldn't change with 'em; for you knaw what they be, all alike--a
drunk-in', fightin', cussin' lot. Lor's! I cudn't stand it, I cudn't, to
be drunk from mornin' to night and from night to mornin'."

"And is he one of this sort?" exclaimed Reuben in horror. "Why, are her
relations like that?"

"They'm all tarred with the wan brush, I reckon," replied Triggs. "If
not, they cudn't keep things goin' as they do: 'tis the drink car'ies
'em through with it. Why, I knaws by the little I've a done that ways
myself how 'tis. Git a good skinful o' grog in 'ee, and wan man feels
he's five, and, so long as it lasts, he's got the sperrit and 'ull do
the work o' five