e boat. Now this is
what he told me. His name was David King. He had been shipwrecked with
another young man--a gentleman's son, I know he said, and they were the
only survivors of all the crew. He had gone out fishing in their boat,
and had been blown off the island. I made out this by fits and starts,
as it were, for he couldn't speak without pain, it seemed. Poor fellow!
he was far gone, and though the doctor poured all sorts of things down
his throat, it was no use, he never lifted up his head, and before the
evening he was dead. Maybe if we had seen him a day or two before he'd
have lived, and been able to tell us more about himself."

Margery was, of course, deeply interested with this account of the
sailor. She imprudently gave him all the money she possessed, and then
begged him to come up to the Tower that he might repeat the story to her
father. He, however, was in a hurry to proceed on his journey, and
declined coming, possibly not aware of the importance which might have
been attached to his narrative, and perhaps selfishly indifferent in the
matter. Margery at length hurried home and told her father, and he and
Tom went down to look for the sailor, but he had disappeared, and
notwithstanding all their inquiries they could gain no trace of him.
The captain, indeed, suspected that the man was some begging impostor,
who had heard of the loss of his son, and had concocted the tale for the
sake of getting money out of the young lady. This was especially Mr
Ludlow's opinion of the matter.

Charley Blount stepped boldly out towards Ludlow Hall, singing as he
went, not from want of thought, but from joyousness of heart. He
reached the hall without interruption. Mr Ludlow was much pleased with
his manner and appearance, thanked him warmly for bringing the message,
and said that he would accompany him back to the Tower, with a couple of
men on horseback. Charley, like most sailors, could ride; that is to
say, he could stick on and let his horse go. He did so on the present
occasion. They had got within two miles of the Tower, when a number of
men, rough-looking fellows, were seen standing in the road before them.

As Mr Ludlow and his party drew near, their gestures became
threatening, and it was evident that they meant mischief. The squire
was not a man to be turned aside from his purpose. "Charge the fellows,
and if they attempt to stop us, fire at them," he exclaimed, putting
spurs to his horse