icked up a hunch of bread to serve me for breakfast. This, with a
half-apologetic air, as if to deprecate its smallness, I produced
from my pocket and handed to him. He snatched it without a word, and
ate it ravenously, keeping his eye fixed upon me in the most
embarrassing way.

"Got any more?"

I was obliged to confess I had not, though sorely afraid of
displeasing him. He turned still further towards me, and stared
without a word, then suddenly spoke again.

"What is your name?"

Truly this man had the strangest manner of questioning. However, I
answered him duly--

"Jasper Trenoweth."

"God in heaven! What?"

He had started forward, and was staring at me with a wild surprise.
Unable to comprehend why my name should have this effect on him, but
hopeless of understanding this extraordinary man's behaviour, I
repeated the two words.

His face had turned to an ashy white, but he slowly took his eyes off
me and turned them upon the sea, almost as though afraid to meet
mine. There was a pause.

"Father by any chance answering to the name of Ezekiel--Ezekiel
Trenoweth?"

Even in my fright I can remember being struck with this strange way
of speaking, as though my father were a dog; but a new fear had
gained possession of me. Dreading to hear the answer, yet wildly
anxious, I cried--

"Oh, yes. Do you know him? He was coming home from Ceylon, and
mother was so anxious; and then, what with the storm last night and
the cry that we heard, we were so frightened! Oh! do you know
--do you think--"

My words died away in terrified entreaty; but he seemed not to hear
me. Still gazing out on the sea, he said--

"Sailed in the _Belle Fortune_, barque of 600 tons, or thereabouts,
bound for Port of Bristol? Oh, ay, I knew him--knew him well.
And might this here place be Lantrig?"

"Our house is on the cliff above the next cove," I replied.
"But, oh! please tell me if anything has happened to him!"

"And why should anything have happened to Ezekiel Trenoweth?
That's what I want to know. Why should anything have happened to
him?"

He was still watching the waves as they danced and twinkled in the
sun. He never looked towards me, but plucked with nervous fingers at
his torn trousers. The gulls hovered around us with melancholy
cries, as they wheeled in graceful circles and swooped down to their
prey in the depths at our feet. Presently he spoke again in a
meditative, far-away voice--

"Ezekiel Tr