ke the young gull you
brought home one day, and, when it was grown, no love kept it from
the sea. You gave it of your best, and it left you; it lay in your
breast, John, and it left you. My dear! my dear! she be the man's
wife. Say that and feel that and stick to that. He be no son to us,
that be sure; but Denas is our daughter. And maybe, John, things are
going to turn out better than you think for. Denas be no fool."

"Oh, Joan, how could she?"

At this point Joan broke down and began to sob passionately, and John
had to turn comforter. And thus the painful hours went by, and the
bread was not baked, and the boats went to sea without John; and the
two sorrowful hearts sat together on their lonely hearth and talked of
the child who had run away from their love. They were uncertain what
to say to their neighbours, uncertain what their neighbours would say
to them. John thought he ought to go to Exeter and see all the
clergymen there, and so find out if Denas had been lawfully married.
Joan thought it "a wisht poor business to go looking for bad news. Sit
at your fireside, old man, or go far out to sea if you like it better,
and if bad news be for you it will find you out, do be sure of that."

The next day it did find them out. The St. Penfer _News_, published on
Thursday, which was market-day, contained the following item: "On
Monday night the daughter of John Penelles, fisher, ran off with Mr.
Roland Tresham. The guilty pair went direct to London. Great sympathy
is felt for the girl's father, who is a thoroughly upright man and a
Wesleyan local preacher of the St. Penfer circuit."

One of the brethren thought it his duty to show this paragraph to
John. And the "old man" in John gained the mastery, and with a
great oath he swore the words were a lie. Then, being sneeringly
contradicted, he felled "the man of duty" prone upon the shingle.
Then he went home and thoroughly terrified Joan. The repressed animal
passion of a lifetime raged in him like a wild beast. He used words
which horrified his wife, he kicked chairs and tables out of his way
like a man drunk with strong liquor. He said he would go to St.
Merryn's and get his money, and follow Roland and Denas to the end
of the world; and if they were not married, they should marry or
die--both of them. He walked his cottage floor the night through,
and all the powers of darkness tortured and tempted him.

For the first time in all their wedded life Joan dared not a