Part 3 (2/2)

”No, sir! No, sir!” calass to sweep the coast

”What do you want?” cried the man at the side as the boat came on, and the lieutenant bade thefelloith keen grey eyes and fair close curly hair all about his sunburned forehead ”I've come after our cow!”

CHAPTER THREE

”How do, Sir Risdon?”

The speaker was a curious-looking h, sunburned, and evidently as keen as a orn knife He was dressed like a far or like a fisher, and his nautical appearance seerey horse attached to a heavy cart, reatcoat of cakedthe horse along as called in Freestone a road, though its only pretensions to being a road was that it led from Shackle's farm to the fields which bordered the cliff, and consisted of two deep channels made by the farm tumbril wheels, and a shallow track forthe quality of never even in the hottest weather being dry

The person Blenheim Shackle--far boots, striped shi+rt, and red tassel cap--had accosted, was a tall, thin, aristocratic-looking gentleman, in a broad-skirted, shabby brown velvet coat, as daintily picking his way, cane in hand, over the soft turf of the field, evidently deep in thought, but sufficiently awake to as around towhite-topped mushroom, and transfer it to one of his pockets with a satisfied shtly on being addressed

”Well, thank you A lovely h, Sir Risdon Picking a few mushrooms, sir?”

”I--er--yes, Master Shackle I have picked a few,” said the tall thin gentle your pardon, Master Shackle, for doing so I ought to have asked your leave”

”Bah! Not a bit,” said the fisher-farmer, with a chuckle ”You're welcome, squire”

”I thank you, Master Shackle--I thank you warmly You see her ladyshi+p is very fond of the taste of a fresh gathered mushroom, and if I see a few I like to take them to the Hoze”

”Ay, to be sure,” said Shackle, as he thought to hiet them, you two poor half-starved creatures, with your show and sham, and titles and keep up appearances”

”I--er--I have not got many, Master Shackle Would you like to see?”

continued the tall thin gentle the flap of one of his salt-box pockets

”I don't want to see,” growled the other, as he stood patting the neck of his old grey horse ”Been to the cliff edge?”

”I--yes, Master Shackle”

”See the cutter?”

”I think I saw a s some distance off, hite sails”

”That's the _White Hawk_, Luff Brough And I wanted to speak to you, Sir Risdon”

The gentleman started