of Blackbeard being seen on wild nights
digging there for his treasure. But then, I reasoned, that very like it
was the contrabandiers whom men had seen with spades when they were
digging out the passage from the tomb to the vault, and set them down for
ghosts because they wrought at night. And while I was busy with such
thoughts, the door opened in the house below me, and out came Grace with
a hood on her head and a basket for wild flowers in her hand.

I watched to see which way she would walk; and as soon as she took the
path that leads up Weatherbeech, made off through the dry brushwood to
meet her, for we had settled she should never go that road except when
Maskew was away. So there we met and spent an hour together on the hill,
though I shall not write here what we said, because it was mostly silly
stuff. She spoke much of the auction and of Elzevir leaving the Why Not?,
and though she never said a word against her father, let me know what
pain his doing gave her. But most she grieved that we were leaving
Moonfleet, and showed her grief in such pretty ways, as made me almost
glad to see her sorry. And from her I learned that Maskew was indeed
absent from home, having been called away suddenly last night. The
evening was so fine, he said (and this surprised me, remembering how dark
and cold it was with us), that he must needs walk round the policies; but
about nine o'clock came back and told her he had got a sudden call to
business, which would take him to Weymouth then and there. So to saddle,
and off he went on his mare, bidding Grace not to look for him for two
nights to come.

I know not why it was, but what she said of Maskew made me thoughtful and
silent, and she too must be back home lest the old servant that kept
house for them should say she had been too long away, and so we parted.
Then off I went through the woods and down the village street, but as I
passed my old home saw Aunt Jane standing on the doorstep. I bade her
'Good day', and was for running on to the Why Not?, for I was late enough
already, but she called me to her, seeming in a milder mood, and said she
had something for me in the house. So left me standing while she went off
to get it, and back she came and thrust into my hand a little
prayer-book, which I had often seen about the parlour in past days,
saying, 'Here is a Common Prayer which I had meant to send thee with thy
clothes. It was thy poor mother's, and I pray may some day be as pr