pink cliffs glow in the most wonderful way; and shifting in bright
patches over the sea like moving shoals of goldfish. Pearse perched
himself on his dinghy, and looked out under his hand. He seemed lost in
admiration.

"If we could only net some of those spangles," he said, "an' make gold of
'em! No more work then."

"It's a big job I've got on," he said presently; "I'll tell you about it
on Wednesday. I want a journalist."

"But I don't write for the papers," I said; "I do other sort of work. My
game is archaeology."

"It doesn't matter," he said, "the more imagination the better. It'd be
a thundering good thing for you."

His assurance was amazing, but it was past supper-time, and hunger
getting the better of my curiosity, I bade him good-night. When I looked
back, he was still there, on the edge of his boat, gazing at the sea. A
queer sort of bird altogether, but attractive somehow.

Nobody mentioned him that evening; but once old Ford, after staring a
long time at Pasiance, muttered a propos of nothing, "Undutiful
children!" She was softer than usual; listening quietly to our talk, and
smiling when spoken to. At bedtime she went up to her grand-father,
without waiting for the usual command, "Come and kiss me, child."

Dan did not stay to supper, and he has not been here since. This morning
I asked Mother Hopgood who Zachary Pearse was. She's a true Devonian; if
there's anything she hates, it is to be committed to a definite
statement. She ambled round her answer, and at last told me that he was
"son of old Cap'en Jan Pearse to Black Mill. 'Tes an old family to
Dartymouth an' Plymouth," she went on in a communicative outburst. "They
du say Francis Drake tuke five o' they Pearses with 'en to fight the
Spaniards. At least that's what I've heard Mr. Zachary zay; but
Ha-apgood can tell yu." Poor Hopgood, the amount of information she
saddles him with in the course of the day! Having given me thus to
understand that she had run dry, she at once went on:

"Cap'en Jan Pearse made a dale of ventures. He's old now--they du say
nigh an 'undred. Ha-apgood can tell yu."

"But the son, Mrs. Hopgood?"

Her eyes twinkled with sudden shrewdness: She hugged herself placidly.

"An' what would yu take for dinner to-day? There's duck; or yu might
like 'toad in the hole,' with an apple tart; or then, there's--Well!
we'll see what we can du like." And off she went, without waiting for my
answer.

To-morr