re Mr. Knight, he's a very nice
young gentleman; but he's an artist, and you know, artists don't look at
things like ordinary folk. He wants to get a moonlight picture of the
Spear Point, and he's got our Columbine to say she'll take him there
tonight. Well, now, I don't think it's right, and I told her so. But, of
course, she come out as pat as anything with him being an artist and
different-like from the rest. Still, I said as I'd rather she didn't,
and Adam had better take him, because of the quicksand, you know. It
wouldn't be hardly safe to let him go alone. He's a bit foolhardy too.
But Adam's not so young as you, Rufus, and he was out before sunrise. So
I thought as how maybe you'd step into the breach and take Mr. Knight
along. Come, you won't refuse?"

She spoke the last words coaxingly, aware of a certain hardening of the
young fisherman's rugged face.

Adam had got off his chopping-block, and was listening with pursed lips
and something of the expression of a terrier at a rat-hole.

"Yes, you go, Rufus!" he said, as Mrs. Peck paused. "You show him round!
I'd like him to know you."

"What for?" said Rufus.

Adam contorted one side of his face into something that was between a
wink and a grin. "Do you good to go into society," he said. "That's all
right, missus, he'll go. Better go and ask Mr. Knight what time he wants
to start."

"Wait a bit!" commanded Rufus.

Mrs. Peck waited. She knew that her stepson was as slow of speech as
his father was prompt, but she thought none the less of him for that.
Rufus was solid, and she respected solid men.

"It comes to this," said Rufus, speaking ponderously. "I'll go if I'm
wanted. But I'm not one for shoving myself in otherwise. Maybe the chap
won't be so keen himself when he knows he can't have Columbine to go
with him. Find that out first!"

Mrs. Peck looked at him with an approving smile. "Lor', Rufus! You've
got some sense," she said. "But I wonder how Columbine will take it if I
says anything to Mr. Knight behind her back."

Adam chuckled. "Columbine in a tantrum is one of the best sights I
know," he remarked.

"Ah! She don't visit her tantrums on you," rejoined his wife. "You can
afford to smile."

"And I does," said Adam.

Rufus turned away. There was no smile on his countenance. He said
nothing, but there was that in his demeanour that clearly indicated that
he personally was neither amused nor disconcerted by the tantrums of
Columbine.

He fo