the oldest inhabitant.
What could have brought him here? men and women asked themselves. There
was surely nobody who could dance in the village, and the few coppers he
would gain by performing on his violin would not repay him for his
trouble. Moreover, Scarcombe was a bleak place, and the man looked sorely
shaken with the storm of life. He seemed, indeed, almost unable to hold
out much longer; his breath was short, and he had a hacking cough.

To the surprise of the people, he did not attempt to play for their
amusement or to ask, in any way, for alms. He had taken a lodging in the
cottage of one of the fishermen, and on fine days he would wander out with
his boy, a child some five years old, and, lying down on the moorland,
would play soft tunes to himself. So he lived for three weeks; and then
the end came suddenly. The child ran out one morning from his room crying
and saying that daddy was asleep and he could not wake him, and on the
fisherman going in he saw that life had been extinct for some hours.
Probably it had come suddenly to the musician himself, for there was found
among his scanty effects no note or memorandum giving a clue to the
residence of the child's friends, or leaving any direction concerning him.
The clergyman was, of course, called in to advise as to what should be
done. He was a kind-hearted man, and volunteered to bury the dead musician
without charging any fees.

After the funeral another question arose. What was to be done with the
child?

He was a fine-looking, frank boy, who had grown and hardened beyond his
years by the life he had led with his father. Fifteen pounds had been
found in the dead man's kit. This, however, would fall to the share of the
workhouse authorities if they took charge of him. A sort of informal
council was held by the elder fishermen.

"It is hard on the child," one of them said. "I have no doubt his father
intended to tell him where to find his friends, but his death came too
suddenly. Here is fifteen pounds. Not much good, you will say; and it
isn't. It might last a year, or maybe eighteen months, but at the end of
that time he would be as badly off as he is now."

"Maybe John Hammond would take him," another suggested. "He lost his boat
and nets three weeks ago, and though he has a little money saved up, it is
not enough to replace them. Perhaps he would take the child in return for
the fifteen pounds. His old woman could do with him, too, and would soon
mak