ye,' said the old man. 'George de Witt and me stopped at the Rose and had a bite. I must go at once after the cows. You'll excuse me.' He went out.
'Will you stay and sup with us, George?' asked the widow. 'There is something in the pot will be ready directly.'
'Thank you all the same,' he replied, 'I want to be back as soon as I can, the night will be dark; besides, you and Glory have company.' Then turning to Rebow he added:
'So you have bought the Ray.'
'I have.'
'Then Glory and her mother are your tenants.'
'They are mine.'
'I hope they will find you an easy landlord.'
'I reckon they will not,' said Elijah shortly.
'Come along, Glory!' he called, abandoning the topic and the uncongenial speaker, and turning to the girl. 'Help me with my boat.'
'Don't be gone for long, Mehalah!' said her mother.
'I shall be back directly.'
Elijah Rebow kept his mouth closed. His face was as though cast in iron, but a living fire smouldered within and broke out through the eye-sockets, as lava will lie hard and cold, a rocky crust with a fiery fluid core within that at intervals glares out at fissures. He did not utter a word, but he watched Glory go out with De Witt, and then a grim smile curdled his rugged cheeks. He seated himself opposite the widow, and spread his great hands over the fire. He was pondering. The shadow of his strongly featured face and expanded hands was cast on the opposite wall; as the flame flickered, the shadow hands seemed to open and shut, to stretch and grasp.
The gold had died out of the sky and only a pearly twilight crept in at the window, the evening heaven seen through the pane was soft and cool in tone as the tints of the Glaucus gull. The old woman remained silent. She was afraid of the new landlord. She had long known him, longer known of him, she had never liked him, and she liked less to have him now in a place of power over her.
Presently Rebow rose, slowly, from his seat, and laying aside his gun said, 'I too have brought a present, but not for Glory. She must know nothing of this, it is for you. I put the keg outside the door under the whitethorn. I knew a drop of spirits was good for the ague. We get spirits cheap, or I would not give you any.' He was unable to do a gracious act without marring its merit by an ungracious word. 'I will fetch it in. May it comfort you in the chills.'
He went out of the house and returned with a little keg under his arm. 'Where is it to go?' he asked.
'Oh, Master Rebow! this is good of you, and I am thankful. My ague does pull me down sorely.'
'Damn your ague, who cares about it!' he said surlily. 'Where is the keg to go?'
'Let me roll it in,' said the old woman, jumping up. 'There are better cellars and storeplaces here than anywhere between this and Tiptree Heath.'
'Saving mine at Red Hall, and those at Salcot Rising Sun,' interjected the man.
'You see, Rebow, in times gone by, a great many smuggled goods were stowed away here; but much does not come this way now,' with a sigh.
'It goes to Red Hall instead,' said Rebow. 'Ah! if you were there, your life would be a merry one. There! take the keg. I have had trouble enough bringing it here. You stow it away where you like, yourself; and draw me a glass, I am dry.'
He flung himself in the chair again, and let the old woman take up and hug the keg, and carry it off to some secure hiding-place where in days gone by many much larger barrels of brandy and wine had been stored away. She soon returned.
'I have not tapped this,' she said. 'The liquor will be muddy. I have drawn a little from the other that you gave me.'
Elijah took the glass from her hand and tossed it off. He was chuckling to himself.
'You will say a word for me to Glory.'
'Rely on me, Elijah. None has been so good to me as you. None has given me anything for my chill but you. But Mehalah will find it out, I reckon; she suspects already.'
He paid no heed to her words.
'So she is not mine, nor the house, nor the marshes, nor the saltings, nor the fish and fowl!' he muttered derisively to himself.
'I paid eight hundred pounds for the Ray and all that therein is,' he continued, 'let alone what I paid the lawyer.' He rubbed his hands. Then he rose again, and took his gun.
'I'm off,' he said, and strode to the door.
At the same moment Mehalah appeared at it, her face clear and smiling. She looked handsomer than ever.
'Well!' snarled Rebow, arresting her, 'what did he give you?'
'That is no concern of yours,' answered the girl, and she tried to pass. He put his fowling piece across the door and barred the way.
'What did he give you?' he asked in his dogged manner.
'I might refuse to answer,' she said carelessly, 'but I do not mind your knowing; the whole Ray and Mersea, and the world outside may know. This!' She produced an Indian red silk kerchief, which she flung over her shoulders and knotted under her chin. With her rich complexion, hazel eyes, dark hair and scarlet cap, lit by the red fire flames, she looked a gipsy, and splendid in her beauty. Rebow dropped his gun, thrust her aside with a sort of mad fury, and flung himself out of the door.
'He is gone at last!' said the girl with a gay laugh.
Rebow put his head in again. His lips were drawn back and his white teeth glistened.
'You will pay the rent next Thursday. I give no grace.'
Then he shut the door and was gone.
1. A salting is land occasionally flooded, otherwise serving as pasturage. A marsh is a reclaimed salting, enclosed within a sea-wall.
2. Cypress-chest.
CHAPTER II.
THE RHYN.
'Mother,' said Mehalah, 'are you better now?'
'Yes, the fit is off me, but I am left terribly weak.'
'Mother, will you give me the medal?'
'What? Your grandmother's charm? You cannot want it!'
'It brings luck, and saves from sudden death. I wish to give it to George.'
'No, Mehalah! This will not do. You must keep it yourself.'
'It is mine, is it not?'
'No, child; it is promised you, but it is
