tes, pointing to the
figure of a man who was seen coming over the distant moor or waste land
which at that period surrounded the town of St. Just, though the greater
part of it is now cultivated fields.

"It isn' like un," said Mrs Maggot, shading her eyes with her hand;
"sure, it do look like a boatsman."

[The men of the coastguard were called "boatsmen" at that time.]

"Iss, I do see his cutlash," said little Grace; "and there's another man
comin' down road to meet un."

"Haste 'ee, Grace," cried Mrs Maggot, leaping up and plucking her
last-born out of the cradle, "take the cheeld in to Mrs Penrose, an'
bide theer till I send for 'ee--dost a hear?"

Plucked thus unceremoniously from gentle slumber to be plunged headlong
and without preparation into fierce infantine war, was too much for baby
Maggot; he uttered one yell of rage and defiance, which was succeeded by
a lull--a sort of pause for the recovery of breath--so prolonged that
the obedient Grace had time to fling down the horror-struck Chet, catch
baby in her arms, and bear him into the neighbouring cottage before the
next roar came forth. The youthful Maggot was at once received into the
bosom of the Penrose family, and succeeding yells were smothered by
eight out of the sixteen Penroses who chanced to be at home at the time.

That Mrs Maggot had a guilty conscience might have been inferred from
her future proceedings, which, to one unacquainted with the habits of
her husband, would have appeared strange, if not quite unaccountable.
When baby was borne off, as related, she seized a small keg, which stood
in a corner near the door and smelt strongly of brandy, and, placing it
with great care in the vacant cradle, covered it over with blankets.
She next rolled a pair of stockings into a ball and tied on it a little
frilled night-cap, which she disposed on the pillow, with the face
pretty well down, and the back of the head pretty well up, and so
judiciously and cleverly covered it with bedclothes that even Maggot
himself might have failed to miss his son, or to recognise the outlines
of a keg. A bottle half full of brandy, with the cork out, was next
placed on the table to account for the odour in the room, and then Mrs
Maggot sat down to her sewing, and rocked the cradle gently with her
foot, singing a sweet lullaby the while. Ten minutes later, two stout
men of the coastguard, armed with cutlasses and pistols, entered the
cottage. Mrs Maggot observed