Chapter 20331930

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Chapter NumberNone
Chapter Title
Chapter Url
Full Date1880-03-20
Page Number361
Word Count9946
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleThe Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 - 1939)
Trove TitleAdam and Eve
article text

The Storyteller.

Adam and Eve.

BY MRS. PARR, Authoress of "Dorothy Fox," "The Goean Smithy," &c, &c.

Chapter VI.

ALTHOUGHT the two girls spent most of the afternoon on Hard Head and the heights around, nothing was to be seen of the expected vessel, a disappointment which, Joan seeming to feel, Eve

tried to get up some small show of having a share ia, although in reality it was a relief to her that nobody was coming to intrude upon, perhaps to dispel, her present state of happiness—a happi ness so complete that she felt as if she had been Buddenly transported into the land of her dreams and fancies, only that this reality exceeded the imagination in a tenfold degree. In the beginning, at each turn she would aeizo Joan by the arm, and excitedly make a fresh demand upon her bympathy, until, finding that Joan only laughed at such enthusiasm about a scene which familiarity had robbed of its beauty, Eve relieved herself by giving vent to long-drawn sighs of satisfied content. With something of that rapture akin to which the caged bird hails its newly-gained freedom, did this town-bred maiden gaze upon the unbroken space before her. Whichever side ahe turned, her eyes fell on a scene every feature of which was new to her. Landward, the valley with its sloping craggy aides. Seaward, the broad blue belt of waters, out into which the distant headlands stretched with the shadowy dimness of an unknown land. Over head, the sun shone hot and bright, bo that Joan, languid and drowsy, threw herself down and gave way to her inclination to doze ; while Eve, well pleased to have her quiet, sat silent and rapt in the beauty around her. Not a sound came to break the stillness, save when the gulls went soaring overhead with croaking cries, or the bees grew noisy over the nodding thistles. Surely in such a place as this sin and sorrow must be unknown, for, with those one loved on earth, who could be sorrowful here ? This thought was still in her mind when Joan, suddenly awakened, proposed they should de scend ; and, after stopping to cast a last look from the Chapel Bock, they took their way back to the village. "Oh my, what steps !" exclaimed Eve, as she prepared to follow Joan down a worn-away flight roughly cut out of the solid rock. "Fine place for pattens, my dear," laughed Joan, as, having recklessly reached the bottom, she stood waiting, inwardly tickled at Eve's cautious descent. The sound of voices had by this time brought to the door of a cottage, situated at the top of the landing-place, an old woman, who, after giving a short-sighted scrutiny to Joan, said : "Awh, it be you, be ft? I couldn't think w'atever giglet 'twas comin*. How be 'cc, then ?" M Oh, all right," said Joan. " Are you pretty well f' " Ist, there ain't much amiss wi' me. I's iver so much better than I war thirty year agone. I doan't wear no bonnet low, nor no handkecher, nor that; and I can see without no spectacles. Awh, bless cc, if 'twaan't for my legs I should be brave, but they swells terrible bad ; and that's where I'm goin' to, if so be they'll car' me so far, to Tallan Beach there, to walk 'em down a bit 'pon the pebbly shore; the doctor says 'tis the thing to do, and the more rubbly the better. Who be you then ?" she said, as Eve landed her self on the flat beside them. " "Pis Uncle Zebedee's niece from London," answered Joan, with becoming pride in her city connection. " Awh, whether she be or no ! wa-al, you'm come to the right place here for maidens : men to marry and money to spend. Awh, I wishes I was young agen. I'd tell cc' 'bout it, and me as could car' me two gallons o' sperrits and a dollup o' tay, besides lace and chancy, and was knawed up to Plymouth and for miles round. Why, I've bin to the clink afore now," she said trium phantly ; " and they threatened me with Bodmint Qaol wance, but not afore I'd marked my man, bless 'cc ; he card Poll Potter's score on bis body to his grave, I'll warrant'em he did." " Ah, you've bin ona o' the right sort, Poll," said Joan ; " folks now ain't what they used to be in your day." "No, tine*a-by, not they," returned the old woman contemptuously ; " 'tis all for stickin' yerself up for fine madams, now ; dresßin' out and that. This is the thing—" and she caught hold of the lace on Joan's kerchief— "and ruffle sleeves, forsooth ! Shame upon 'cc Joan, and yer uncle too, for lettin' 'cc wear such fal-de-lals ; and Zebedee a sensible man as knows the worth o' such, for over a guinea a yard and more 1" "It hasn't got nothin' to do with Uncle Zebe dee," said Joan, with a toes of her head ; "'twas Adam gave 'em to me, there now," and Bhe passed her hand over the delicately textured frill which shaded her somewhat over-colored eye brows. c> A bit o' sweetheartin, was it ? But there, don't 'cc trust to 'uo, Joan; he isn't a-thinkin' of you, take my word for that;" aud she rais> d her voice to call after Joan, who, at the firßt words of warning, had run down the remaining steps. " Dou't you make too sure o' that!" Joan called back, turning round under pretence of seeing that Eve was coming. " All right, only doan't you nayther," Baid the old womou, emphatically. "So you bo his chield ?" shu said, looking at I've as she paraud by ; " and a vice rapskallion rogue he war," ahe added with a sigh ; " but for a' that I was mazed after un, though be couldn't abide me—morc's the pity, praps, for he might ha' bin alive now, though that's nothin' much, neither. Tis a poor tale of it when't comes to nought else but lookin' on ; if 't warn' for the little they brings me, freight free, an' the bit o' haggle I has o'er it, I'd as soon be out of it as here." Tho concluding sentence of these reflections was lost upon Eve, at* aha hud already ovcrtakeu * Tho ri^lit of ivjiiiblibhiiii; "Adam ami"' in (JueeiiHl.uid liiu bueu purchased by tho i>ruiuiutoia of tlic Uv.t<.ddand<r.

Joan, whose flushed face betrayed the annoyance old Poll's words had caused. " Why, Joan, I do believe you're a sly one," said Eve, " and that, for all you say, Adam's more than a cousin to you." " No, indeed he's not," replied Joan, quickly ; "ao don't take that into yer head, Eve. You'll aoon hear from all around who's got a soft plaeo for me, but 'tiau't Adam, mind ; folks brought up togeth«r from babies never turn into lovejs, somehow." "Don't you think bo?" Baid Eve. "Ob, I don't know that; I've heard tell of several who've thought different, and have married." 11 Have *cc ? What, people you've knowed !" Bald Joan, earnestly ; " they who've always lived together in one house as we've done ! 1 should like to hear about 'em, if 'twaß only out of curio- Bity's sake." But unfortunately, when put to the test, Eve was unable, by furtW experience, to substantiate her statement, and could only repeat that, though she couldn't bring their histories clearly to her mind, she felt certain she had heard of such people ; and Joan shook her head disappointedly, saying, in an incredulous voice : " Ah, I can't credit it; it doesn't seem likely to me that ever such a thing could come to pas*." And she turned usido to speak to a comely looking woman, who camo out to the door of a near-by house which they were passing. "Well, Joan, who've 'cc got there?" Bhe called out. While Eve, in order to allow of the question being freely answered, turned to look at the quaint weather-beaten pier. Fortunately it was high-water, and the unsightly deposits, often offensive to tho nose as well as to the eyes, were hidden from view. Everything seemed bathed in sunlight, and pervaded by a soft drowsy quiet. A group of aged men leaned over and against the bridge, enjoying a chat together ; some boys lounged about the neighboring rocks, and seeiniugly played at catching fish ; with these exceptions the whole village seemed delivered up to women. " Taint much of a place to look at now," said a voice near. And turning, Eve found it came from the woman belonging to the house into which Joau had by this time entered. "Polperro's a proper poor wiaht place when the boats is out." " Why, are there more boats than are here now ?" asked Eve. " What dee mane—than these here ? Why, bless the maid, how do 'cc think they'm to reach Guernsey and places in such like a» they? Why, did 'cc never see a luggur ? No ? Well, then, us has got sometbin' to show 'eu for all you've come fru London." " Oh, you've many things here that I wouldn't ohange for all the sights London con show," said Kve, promptly. "We have 1 Why, what be. they, then ?" "The country and the sea all uround, and everything bo still and quiet. I was thinking, •b I Mt looking out upon it all up on top there, that the people here must be forced to be very good!" •' My life !" exclaimed the woman, turning round to Joan, " 'tis time her was cut for the simples. Why, do 'cc knaw," she said, address ing Eve, " that there ain't a place far cor near that's to But there," she interrupted, " I won't tell 'cc. I only ax 'cc this much—come down here this time next week, and toll me what ye thinks ojf it then. Still and quiet, and fo'ced to be good!" she repeated. " Well, I'm blest 1 why, was 'cc boru inniceut, or have 'cc bin took so all of a suddent ?" Poor Eve blushed confusedly, feeliug, without knowing how, that she hud been guilty of dis playing some unusual want of sense ; while Joan, annoyed at her being bo openly laughed at, ex claimed angrily: "Don't take no notice o' what who saya, Evo ; Bhe's always telling up a pa^sel o' nonsense. And so 'tis just what Evo Bayt-," bho added, sympathetically; "a stoopid «ld place hulf its time, with nobody to see, and nothink to look at. If uncle duu't come by to-tiioirow, wo two 'II gn to Looe or Fowey, or sotuowheres; wo won't dio o' the dianinla in this old dungeon of a hawl. Why t' sodgers 'ud bo butter than nobody, I do declare!" •' 'Tis so well to wish for t' preswgantr, while you'm 'bout it," laughed the Wouinn ; " and I don't know but you urightu't give 'em a welcome neither, if they'd only find their way up to Cruujplehorne and fall in with our Sammy a-twiddlin' his thumbs. Have 'co took her up to seeyur mother yet?" she a*k<:d, jerking her finger towards Kve, whoso attention was by thi.i timu completely engrossed in examining the contoula of the well-fumiched drefluer. " I say," sho said, answering Joan's pout nu<l nhako of tho hend, " there'll bo a pretty how-de-do if you doau't ; her was down here sighing and groaniu' her insides out 'ooseaomobody'd ha' told her they seed 'cc to tho wra-itliu' match. As I said, ' Why, what be 'co makin' that noise about, then ? There was us honewt woruuii there an your Joan, or her mother afore her.' I han't a got patieuco with nnybody scttiu' tlu-iiHelves up so, 'cos they chance to como fra liodiuint. ' Fmvor wa-alla and a turnkey,' as old Buugey said when they axed what he'd aecd there ; and that's purty much about it, I reckon, leastwise with mo.^t that mr.kc3 that journey. Still, if I was you, Joan, I'd tike her up, 'cos her kuawd hera litre ; Sammy's a-told her that." Joun spent y. few minutes in retlection, then eh« said : " Eve, what d'ye cay ? wilt 'cc go up and aeo mother ?" "Eh, Juan ! mother -? what, your mother ? Yes, I should like to very uiucb. I *o taken up with all thin beautiful china," she .-*aid, apologeti cally, "that I wasn't. liaU-niny to what you wero talking about." " Doesn't her clip her word.-?" said the hostesH, who was,a relatiou to Joau on th» father's side. " 'Tis a party way o' talkin' though, and* all of a piece with her. You've v lv.a nomubody, my dear, haven't 'cc ?" she asked, locking nt Eve's black gown. " Vis, my mother," said Eve, surprised at the tore of sympathy tho questioner waa able to tht ow into her voice. <; Ah, that's a noru 10.-*n, Unit i.i. lv. a I>>.l my uwu mother, ui> I euu tell. l'uui- old a.iwl ! 1 thinkd I aoo hur vow ! Whm we children, had

bin off, nobody knows how long, and her worritin' and tbinkin' vi was to bottom o' Bay, herd come out with a girt big stick and herd leather us till her couldn't stand, and call us all the raskil rogues her could lay her tongue to. I often thinks of it now, and it brings back her words to me. ' You may find another husband/ herd say, 'or have another chield, but there's niver but the wan mother.' And some o' that chancy there waß here. Well, that very cup and sarcer you'm lookin* at now belonged to she f aud so you take it, my dear, and keep it. No ! nonsouse, but you shall, now !" for Eye wan pro testing against accepting such a present. " 'Twill only get broked up into sherds here ; and if her was alive you' 4 a bin welcome to th' whole dresßer-full, her was Buch a free-handed woman ! Chancy, tay, liquor, no matter wh»t—bo long as she'd got, she'd give." " I think you must take after her," said Eve, rather embarassed by such unexpected generosity; " but I really feel as if I was taking advantage of your good-nature. I shall be afraid to admire an j thing again, though that'll be a hard thing to do in a place like this, where everybody's got such lots of lovely things." "Oh, 'twon't be loDg afore you'Jl have as good as anyone ; for, for Bare, they'Univer let her go back agen. So you'd better*write to the baws you've left behind and tell 'em bo to wance." Eve gave a shake of her head, which served the double duty of disowning the impeachment of a beau, and bidding farewell; and the two girls turned up the street, and, only waiting to deposit Eve'b cup in a safe keeping-place, they took their way towards Crumplehorne. The road recalled to Eve's recollection the way by which ehe had come, though it seemed impos sible that it was only on the previous evening that she had traversed it for the first time. The varied scenes she had looked upon, the sensations she had passed through, had spread the day over a much longer space of time than that occupied by twenty-four hours. Already Joan had made her feel aa if she was a friend whom Bhe had known for years. Even the people whom Bhe casually met broke the ice of first acquaintance ship by Buch a decided plunge that she was at once at home with them. Altogether a new phase of life had opened for her, and had sud denly swallowed up her anxieties about the pre- Bent, and her regret about the future. During the whole day, since the early morning, not one thought of Reuben had entered her minil ; a test, had she been given to analyse her feelings, of her perfect contentment For as long aB Eve was happy Reuben would be forgotten ; lot disappointment or regret set ra, and her thoughts veered round to him. " Why, you've turned BUent all ftfc once," said Joau, tired of her own five minutes' reflections. " I was thinking," said Eve. " What about ?" asked Joan. " Why, I waa thinking that I couldn't believe 'twaa no mure than, last night I passed by here— oh ! with such a heavy heart, Joan !" and at the remembrance her eyes swam with tears. " And for why ?" said Joan, in some surprise. " Oh, because I began to feel that I was coming to where you'd be all strange to me; and I wondered whether I'd done rkjit In leaving my own home where mother and me had lived to gether bo long." " Hadn't 'cc any eta to leave behind but the thoughts o' your mother?" interrupted tfoan, practically. " No." Then, feeling this was not quite true; she added, "That is, nobody that I minded much —not that I cared to leave. I had Bomebody that didn't like me going, and begged me to stay—but that was only a friend." "A friend!" repeated Joan, incredulously— " a friend that sticketh closer than a brother, I reckon. Come now, you may as well tell me all about it ; I'm sure to get at it sooner or later. What's his name, eh?" "Oh, I don't mind tellin' you his name," laughed Eve. " Reuben May, that's his name ; but 'tUn't he I want to speak of—'tis you, Joan, for Luakiu' vie feel so at home all at olcg. I shall never forget it—never !" Aud, an hhe turned her face toward Joan, the dropw which had trembled in her eyes fell on her cheeks. "Why, what nonsense next?" exclaimed Joan, impulsively threading her arm through Eve's and hugging it close up to her, "asif anybody could help being kind to 'co. Tis only to look in your face, and you cau't do no other ; and mind, 'tis none o' my doiu's that you'm hero," she con tiuueil, following out her own train of thought. " I was that set ageust your comin', as you never did. I couldn't abide the thoughts of it. Adam, and me too, took on with uncle ever ho, when he would havo 'co coiiie ; but 'twas no use, there wan no turniu' un ; and now I Wouldn't have it otherwise for iver so. You'm Bo altogether (liQereut to what I looked for ; I thought you'd bo miwpiu' aud mmcm', and that nothin* 'ud pleaae 'co, aud you'd bo cuttin' up a Dido with everything and everybody ; 'stead o' which 'tis as if I'd lmow'd 'cc all ray life, and you'd bin away and come back agen." " Oh, I am ho glad," said Eve laughing in the midst of h»r tears ; " for when you've lost every body, ad I have, souiethlug in your heart soema always pining after people's love." '? Which you mostly getn, I reckon," said Joan, Htuilii g. " 'TL-! that iuuiceut sort o' look you'm g'.>t, and yer mild way o' xpeakiu', that does it, I 'epects. But you must pluck up a spirit afore thn men"—for Eve had been telling her how entirely unaccustomed nh« was to any but female companionship —" and be randy with an answer afore they speak, so inipid-eut as some of Vm be. They kuow 'ti<» uo use try in' it on with me, though. I gives 'em so good as they brings, any day ; and that's what men like, you know plenty o' courage, and a woman that isn't afraid o' any tiling or auybody ; for, no matter how I feel, I'd die afore I'd show any fear." " But I should show the fear, and die too," said Eva. " Not a bit of it," laughed Joan ; " I'll give 'cc a lesson or two ho that you shan't kuow your self for the same." Then, suddenly stopping and drawing down her face, sho said : "' But there* a time fo•• overything,' said Solomon the 'wise, and that tlnin ain't now, for there's the mill, aud 'ti.s in horo that my mother livi'.i. And, Kvil," ulie LMiitiui" 1'!, turning round iv the act of givii;^ thu g;ito a hoist preparatory to swinging ft open, "if bo bo uiutUor «tj°V.M bugiu about

uncle and they, don't take no heed, 'cos what •he says doean't lie deeper down than her tongue, and she only Bays it to keep in with the chapel folk*." Eve was spared the awkwardness of any reply, by having to bestow all her attention on picking her Bteps through the mud by which the gate was surrounded, for from most of the people carrying their corn to be ground, and not \infre quently waiting about until the process was ac complished, the approach to the mill was seldom or never anything but a alough, of a consistency varying with the state of the weather. A few yards on, this path turned off to the right, leaving a tolerably free space of well-washed pebbles, in the midst of which was the dwelling-house, the door of which was conveniently placed so that it commanded a full view of the out-gate. In a straight line with this door, the upper half of which, after the prevailing fashion, was left open, a little round table was set, and behind this table Eve, drawing nearer, perceived an elderly person, who she supposed must be Mrs. Tucker. But, notwithstanding that by this time the two girls were dose by, Mrs. Tucker's face continued im movable, her eyes fixed, and her fingers knitting away as if no mundane object could possibly en gross such steadfast attention. The gaze so completely ignored the presence of her visitors that by the time Joan had got up to the door Eve had found ample time to take a critical survey of Mrs. Tucker's personal appear ance, which formed such a contrast to Joan's that it was difficult to reconcile it with the close relationship which existed between them. Mrs. Tucker seemed tall, flat, and bouy ; her dress was drab, her kerchief black, and her cap, under which her hair was hidden, was fashioned after the model of a Quaker's. Still her face, though stern, was not unpleasing, and its form and features were, on the whole, better modelled and more delicately cast than her daughter's. " Well, Joan I" she said at length, with a touch of displeasure in her voice. " Well, mother I" answered Joan, with a cor responding modicum of defiance. Then there was a pause, during which Joan evidently waited for her mother to say Bome thing to Eve, but, this hope being vain, Bhe was forced into saying, with a trifle more aggression : "Ain't you goin' to say nothin' to Eve, mother! I brought her up a-purpose, fancyin' you'd like to see her, praps, and 'ud be out if I didn't" And stepping on one side, she threw Eve intp the foreground, and obliged her to advance with the timid air of one who is uncertain of her welcome. " I don't know why I should be expeoted to know people afore I've heerd their names," said Mrs Tucker, stiffly ; " but if this is Eve—why— how do you find yourself I" and she made just sufficient pause between the two parts of her sentence to give the idea that the greeting, prompted by politeness, had been curtailed by principle. " I feel better to-day," said Eve, growing con fused under the scrutiny she was undergoing. ' "My son-in-law, Samuel, told me that you seemed very tired by your journey." "Tee," answered Eve, feeling her indifferent treatment of Samuel might be the cause of this cool greeting : " I fear he thought me but poor company. I hardly spoke a word all the way." "Well, if you'd nothin' to say, 'tis so well to hold yer tongue; as I tell Joan, 'tis but a poor dapper that's allays on the tinkle. Why didn't you come up to dinner then, Joan ?" Bhe said, turning to her daughter. "We mightn't have got dainties to set Eve down to, but we've allers got somethin' to eat, thank the Lord." " I couldn't tell but what uncle might be home, and we can't stay now long, for they may be in any hour." " Ah, then uncle hasn't seen Eve yet ? I should say he'd be disappointed not to find her more featured like her father's family." " I don't know why he should be, then," said Joan, sharply. " I can't tell who she's featured after, but somebody a sight better-looking than any o' the Pascal lot" "That's as people see," said Mrs. Tucker, grimly. "Oh yeß," returned Joan, recklessly ; "'tis free thought, and free speech, and free trade here, and long life to it, I says." M And what do you say, Eve ?" asked Mrs. Tucker* ''Eve can't say anythin' about what she don't know nothin', can ye, Eve ?" said Joan ; " but as far as Bhe's Bin, she likes the place dearly, and the people too, and Bhe don't intend to go back to London never no more." " Oh, Joan, Joan I don't say that I" exclaimed Eve, trying to give a more pleasant turn to the discord which was evidently impending between the mother and daughter. While Mrs. Tucker said : " 'Tia early dayß to make up your mind, seeing you haven't sin yer uncle yet, nor he you. Joan allays forgets that there's more than she has got a voice in matters." " No, Joan don't, mother ; and you'll Bee that there'll be more than uncle and me beggin' her to stay. Adam hasn't seed her yet;" and the girl looked up with an expression of defiance. "That's true," replied Mrs. Tucker, without altering a tone or a feature ; " Eve has got to see both the bawß—Adam and Jerrem, too. 'Tia to be hoped you'll take to Jerrem, Eve," she said, glancing in Joan's direction, "or your uncle will be sore put out; he seema to have got his heart set 'pon you aud Jerrem makin' a match of it." "He hasn't done nothin' o' the sort," re turned Joan, fiercely, " and 'tisn't right in you to say bo, mother, 'coa uncle, in a joke-like, said somethin' in a laughing way, but he didn't mean it 110 more for Jerrem than he did for Adam ; and, as Eve hasn't sin neither of 'em, 'tis aa likely Bhe takes to one as t'other, and more when she knows 'twould be disappointin' me, for I loves Jerrem dearly, Eve, and I don't care who knows it, neither." " I think if I was a young puason I should wait till I was axed afore 1 was bo very free in offering my company to anybody," said Mrs. Tucker, worked at last into Borne show of auger. " Oh, no need for that," laughed the irrepres sible Joan. "So long as we understands each other, whether Jerrem tells me or I telU he, it comes to the same thing ; and, now that we've had our haggle out, mother, I think 'tis so well

us goes ;" and she jumped up, but bo heedlessly that the tucked-up train of her gown caught in the handle of a neighboring cupboard-door, and she had to stand still while Eve endeavored to disentangle it. "There's one thing I'm glad to see," said Mrs. Tucker, taking vote of the two girls as thy stood side by side, " and that is, that Eve's clothes is consistent, and I hope shea got the sense to keep 'em bo, aud not be a-bedizeniu' herself out with all inunuer o' thing* as you do, Joan. I'm fairly fo'ced to close my eyos for the dazzle o' that chintz. Whatever you can be thinkin' o' yeraelf to go dreasin' up in that rory-tory stuff, 1 don't know. Does it never enter yer poor vain head that yer miserable body will be ate up by worms some day V "They won't eat it up any the more'cos o' this chintz gown, mother. Ain't it Bweet aßd purty ?" she added, turning to Eve. " 'Tis a rale booty, that 'tis ; there isn't the like of it in the place. 'Twas gived to me a Christmas pre sent," she added significantly, while the dis pleasure deepened in Mrs. Tucker's face, so that Eve tried to throw a little reproof into the look she gave Joan, for she paw plainly enough that mother and daughter were at cross purposes about somebody, and Joan was bent upon teasing. Whether Joan noticed the expression, Bhe could not tell; but, after a minute's pause, she broke out passionately, Baying : 41 How can 'cc find it in yer heart to act as ye do, mother, never havin' a good word or a kind thought for a poor sawl who hasn't nobody to cling to natural-like ? Anyone 'ud think the religion you'm allays preachin' up would teach 'cc better than that." " Everybody in their place, that's my motter," said Mrs. Tucker, whose stolid manner was vividly contrasted with her daughter's excitable temperament: "and the place o' Btranjters ain't that o* children. Now, 'tis no use bidin' here to cavil, Joan," she continued, seeing that Joan was about to answer her. " I've used the same words to your aunt, and your uncle too, scores o' times, and said then, as I say now, that a day may come when they rueH it ; and all I pray for is that mv misgivins' mayn't come to pass." " Ibs ; well, I think you may let that prayer bide now, mother!" exclaimed Joan; "there'b plenty else things to pray for besidas that, and people too. There's me ; you've always got me on band, you know." " I don't forget you, Joan ; you may make your mind easy o' that," said Mrs. Tucker. " Wei', here's Eve, you can give her a turn now." " Very like I might do worse, for I dare swear Eve ain't beyond needing guidance more than other young maidens." " No, indeed," said Eve ; " none of ub are too good, and I often have the wish to be different from what I am." "Ah, 'taint much good if you don't go no further than wiahin'," said Mrs. Tucker ; " so far as wishin' goes, you slight Bit there and wish you was home, but you wouldn't be a stop the further near to it." " That's true," broke in Joan, " for I've bin wishin' myself home this hour and more, and so I should think had Eve, too." " Oh, I dare say," said Mrs. Tucker. "I know very well that I'm no great company for young folks ; but a time may come—when I'm dead and gone and mouldin' in my grave, though you may both be left behind—to prove that the words I've a spoke is true ; for we all do fada as a leaf, and are born to Borrow as the sparks fly upwards ;" and with this salient remark Mrs. Tucker allowed the two girls to depart, Joan fairly running, in her anxiety to be out of the place, the further gate of which she flung open with such force that it closed behind them with a swinging noise that seemed to afford her much relief, and she gave vent to a loud sigh, saying: " Now, Eve, isn't mother too much for any body ? She just works me up till I could say anything. There, don't 'cc look like that at me, 'cos 'tis her fault bo much as mine. She knows what I aui, and what sets me up, and yet that's the very thing she pitches on to talk about." " I fancy you say things, though, that vex her too," said Eve smiling. But Joan did not return the smile ; her face grew more cloudy as Bhe said : " Perhaps I do —I dare say ; but you don't know all the ins and outs. Some day, happen, I may tell 'ee—'t all depends." And she gave another Bigh. "But'tis shameful to set Adam up agen Jerrem, and that mother's sure to do if ever she finds the chance. She'd tell another story if she'd got to live with 'em both, and was always tryin' to Bet all straight between the two, as I am ; and Jerrem so madcap and feather brained as he is, and Adam like a bit o' touch paper for temper." " I half think I Bhall like Jerrem better than I shall Adam," said Eve, with a Bly look, in tended to rouse Joan from her grave mood. " Do 'cc ?" said Joan, with a smile which began to chase away the cloud from her face. " But no : you haven't seen the two of 'em together yet, Eve. When you do, I'll wager 'tis Adam who you choose." Eve shook her head. "I'm never one to be taken by looks," Bhe said. " Besides, if he was everybody's choice, why isn't he yours—eh, Mrs. Joan?" Joan feigned to laugh, but in the midst of the laugh, she burst out crying, sobbing hysterically as she said : " Ob, because I'm uothin' but Cousin Joan, to be made much of when there's nobody elße, and forgot all about if another's by !" Eve stood amazed. This sudden shifting mood was a mystery to her ; she hardly knew what to say or do. Surely her ppeech could not have paiiied Joan ? if ho, how and why ? She was btill betiutiug, aud thinking what comfort she could oiler, when Joan raised her head with the visible intention of saying something—but in a moment her attention was arrested ; she took two or three steps forward, theu, apparently for getful of all elae, she cxclaiuitd : "It must be thuy ! Yes, there's-auother ! Quick, Eve ! run, 'tis the boatß ! One o' 'em's in sight, and most like 'tia uncle'B ! If we don't look sharp the/11 be in 'fore we can get home." Cuaptek VII. Joan in front, Eve within Bpeaking-distance behind, the two girls made all haste to leach the village, where Joan's anticipations were confirmed

by the various people with whom, in passing, she exchanged a few words. Coming within Bight of the house, a sudden thought made her turn and Bay : " Eve, wouldn't 'cc like to tee 'em comin' in, eh ? There's light enough left if ua looks sharp about it." Eve's lack of breath obliged her to signify her ready assent by several nods, which Joau rightly interpreting, off she ran iv advance to leave a fow necessary directions about supper ; after which Bhe joiued Eve, and together they hurried on towards a small flat space just under the Chapel rock, where a group of people were already assembled. The sun was sinking, and its departing glory hung like a cloud of fire in the west, and flecked the sea with golden light; the air was still, the water calm, and only rippled where the soft south-west breeze came full upon it. Several small vessels lay dotted about, but standing out apart from these were two of larger size and different rig, one of which just headed the other. " 'Tis uncle's in front," said a weather-beaten old fellow, turning round to Joan, who for Eve's convenience had taken her stand on the rising hillock behind. "T* bindermost one's the Stamp and Go." " Never fear, the Lottery 'ill nivw be t' hind ermost one," said Joan, boastfully. " Not if Adam's to helm," laughed another man near; " he'd rather steer to ' kingdom come* first, then make good land second." "And right he should, and why not?" ex claimed Joan ; "t' hasn't come to Adam's luck yet to learn the toons they play on second fiddles." " Noa, that's true," replied the man, " and 'tis to be hoped 't never will; t' ud come rayther hard 'pon un up this time o' day I reckon." " I s'pose uncle's had word the coast's all clear," said Joan, anxiously. 11 Awh, he know's what he's about. Never fear uncle; he can count ten, he can. He wouldn't be rinnin* in, in broad day, too, with out he could tell how the coast's lyin'." " Why don't they Bail straight in ?" asked Eve, following with great interest each movement made. " 'Cos if they hugged the land too tight they'd lose the breeze," said Joan. " Her don't know nothin' about vessels," she said, apologising for Eve's ignorance. " Her's only just corned here ; her lives up to London." " Awh, London, is it!" was echoed round, while the old man who had first spoken, wishing to place himself on a friendly footing with the new arrival, said : "Awh, if 'tis London I've a bin to London, too, I have." " What, living there ?" asked Eve. " Wa-al, that's as you may choose to call it; t'warn't much of a life, though, shovellin' up mud in the Thames River fra morning to night Howsomdever, that's what they sot me to do, 'for chatin' the King's revenoos,'" he quoted, with a comical air of bewilderment "Chatin'!" he re peated, with a snort of contempt, "that's avoine word to fling at a chap vur tryin' to get a honest livin' ; but there, they'm fo'ced to say sommat, I s'pose, though you mayn't spake, mind. Lord no ; you mun stand by like Mumphazard", and get hanged for sayin' nothin' at aIL" " Joan, look ! why, they've got past I" ex claimed Eve, as the foremost of the two vessels, taking instant advantage of a puff of wind, gave a spurt and shot past the mouth of the little harbor. " Isn't it in here they've got to come." "All right; only you wait," laughed Joan, "and see how he'll bring her round. There, didn't I tell 'cc so t" she exclaimed triumphantly. " Where's the Stamp and Go now, then ?" she called out, keeping her eyes fixed on the two vessels, one of which had fallen short by a point, and so had got under lea of the peak, where she remained with her square brown sail flapping helplessly, while the other made her way towards the head of the outer pier. " Now 'tiß time for us to be off, Eve. Come along, or they'll be home before üb." And, joining the straggling group who were already descending, the two girls took their way back to the house, Joan Uughing and vaunting the seamanship of her cousin, while Eve lagged Bilently behind with sinking spirits, as the prospect of meeting her new relations rose vividly before her. Putting together the things she had heard and seen, the hints dropped by Joan, and the fashion in which the house was conducted, Eve had most unwillingly come to the conclusion that her uncle gained his living by illicit trading, and was, indeed, nothing less than a smuggler—a being Eve only knew by name, and by some image which that name conjured up. A smuggler, pirate, bandit—all three answered to an ancient black-framed picture hanging up at home, in which a petti coated figure, with a dark beringleted face, stood flourishing a pistol in one hand and a cutlass in the other, while in the sash round his waist he displayed every other impossible kind of weapon. Surely her uncle could be in no way like that, for such men were always brutal, bloodthirsty ; and she, so unußed to men at all, what would become of her among a lawless crew, perhaps, whose drunken orgies might end in quarrels, violence, murder " Ah !" and the terrified scream Bhe gave sent Joan flying back from the few yards in advance to see Eve shrinking timidly away from a young fellow who had run up behind and thrown his arm round her waist " Why, for all the world, 'tis Adam !" ex claimed Joan, receiving a smacking kiss from the offender, who was laughing heartily at the fright he had occaaioued. " Wby, Eve, what a turn you give me, to be sure ! Heie, Adam, this is Cousin Eve. Come here and shake hands with un, Eve. Where's uncle ? is he ashore yet ? We've bin watchin' of 'cc comin' in. Why, Eve, you'm all of a tritnble ! Only do 'cc feel her hand, she's Bhakin' all over like a leaf." " 'Twill pass in a minute," said Eve, vexed thitt she had betrayed her nervousness. " I was think ug, that was the reason." " I'm sure I never meant to frighten you," Baid Adam, who, now that the group of bystanders had moved on, began offering her an apology. " I took her for one of the maidens here, or I shouldn't ha' made so free." " Oh, you'll forgive him, won't ye, Eve ?" "I hope so," Baid Adam; "'twon't do to

begin our acquaintance with a quarrel, will it ?" And I haven't told ye that we're glad to see ye, or anything yet," he added, eeeing that Joan had hastened on, leaving them together, " though there's not much need for sayin' what I hope you know already. When did you come then, Cousin Eve, eh!" " Yesterday." " Oh ! you didn't get in before yesterday ? and you came in the Mary Jane with Isaac Triggs ?" " Yes." Eve had not sufficiently recovered herself to give more than a direct answer, aud, as fa lie still felt dreadfully annoyed at her Billy behavior, she had not raised her eyes, and so could not see the interest with which her companion was regarding her ; in fact, she was hardly attending to what he said, so anxious was she to find the exact words in which to frame the apology she, in her turn, was bent on making. There was no further time fur deliberation, for already Adam had pushed open the door, and then, ac he turned, Eve got out: " Fou mustn't think I'm very silly, cousin, because I seem bo to-night; but I ain't accus tomed " and she hesitated. "To have a young man's arm around your waist ?" he said slyly. "That wasn't what I was going to Bay; though, as far as that goes, nobody ever did that to me before." 41 Is that true ?" he laughed. Then he called out, " Here Joan, bring a candle. Cousin Eve and I want to see each other; we don't know what we're like to look at yet" 41 In a minute," answered Joan, appearing in leas than that time with a candle in her hand ; " there, if you'm in a hurry, I'll be candlestick," and she put herself between the two, holding the light above her head. "Now, how d'ye find yourselves, good people, eh ? so good-looking or better than you thought ?" "Ah ! that's not for you to know, Mrs. Pert," laughed Adam ; " but stay, we've got to kiss the candlestick, haven't we ?" " That's as you please," said Joan, holding up her face to Eve, who was bending down to fulfil the request when Adam caught hold of her, Baying: " Come, come, 'tis my turn first; it's hard if a cousin can't have a kiss." But Eve bad drawn herself back with a reso lute movement, as she said : "I don't like being kissed by men; 'tisn't what I've been used to." " Well, but he's your cousin," put in Joan ; 44 a cousin ain't like another man ; though there's no great harm in anybody, bo far as I see." But Adam turned away, saying: 44 Let be, Joan ; I'm not one to force myself where I'm not wanted." Fortunately, before any awkwardness could arise from this Blight misunderstanding, a diver sion was caused by the entrance of Uncle Zebedee, whose genial good-tempered face beamed as he took in the comfortable room and family group. 44 Well, Joan," ha said, as Joan ran forward to meet him, w and who's this ? not poor Andrew's little maid, to b« sure I Why, I'm glad to give 'cc welcome, my dear. How be 'cc ? when did 'cc come ? Has her bin good to 'cc, eh ? gived 'cc plenty to ate and drink ? I'll into her if she han t, the wench 1" and he pulled Joan lovingly towards him, holding back Eve with the other hand so that he might take a critical survey of her. "I say, Joan, what do 'cc say ? 'tis apurty bit o* goods, ain't it f" Joan nodded assent " Why, who's her like, eh t not her poor father —no, but somebody I've know'd. " Why, I'll tell 'cc—my Bister Avice that was drownded Bay ing another maid's life, that's who 'tis. Well, now I never I to think o' Andrew's maid bein' like she 1 Well, she was a regular pictur, she war, and so good as she war handsome." " That Bhows us both comes o' one family," said Joan, rubbing her rosy cheek against the old man's weather-stained visage. " Not a bit of it," be laughed ; " but I'll tell 'cc what, she's got a touch of our Adam here, so well as bein' both named together, too. My feyther, poor ole chap, he couldn't abide his name bisself noways, but us two lads, Andrew and me, us allays sword that our children, whether boys or maids, 'cordin' as they com'd fußt, should be Adams and Eves, and us kept our words, the both of us, ye see. Here, Adam I" he called, " come hither, lad, and stand up beside thy cousin. I want to take measure of 'cc to gether, side by side." But Adam, though he must have heard, neither answered nor came in; and, after waiting for a few minutes, his father, by way of apology, premised to Eve that he had gone up to " titivate a bit;" while, jerking his finger over his shoulder, he asked Joan, in a stage aside, "if the wind had shifted anyways contrary." Joan shook her head, answering in a low voice that it would be all right, and she would run out and hasten in the supper; and some ten minutes later, while Eve was detailing to her uncle some of the events of her pant life—how her mother and she had lived, and how they had managed to support themselves—Adam reap peared, and Uncle Zebedee, pointing to a seat near, endeavored to include him in the conversa tion ; but whether Eve's past history had no interest for her cousin, or whether he had not quite overlooked her small rebuff, she could not decide. At any rate, he seemed to be much more amused by teasing Joan, and, as Joan was by no means unwilling to return his banter while she moved about in and out the room, the two carried on a very Bmart fire of rough joking, which gradually began to interest Uncle Zebedee, so that he left off talking to listen, and very soon Eve found herself at liberty to indulge her hitherto restrained curiosity, and take a critical survey of Adam, who lounged on a cheat op posite, with his whole attention so apparently engrossed by Joan as to render it doubtful whether the very existence of such a person rb Eve had not entirely escaped bis recollection. Certainly, Adam was a man externally fitted to catch the fancy of most women, aud, nettled as Eve watt by bis Beeming indifference to herself, she tried in vain to discover some fault of person to which she could take objection ; out it was of no use battling with the satisfaction her eyes had in resting on such perfection, heightened by U • gratifying knowledge that between them an evi dent likeness existed. Adam had the same fair akin, which exposure had tanned but could not

redden ; his hair, although of a warmer tint, was of a shade similar to her own; his eyas ware' gray, brows and lashes dark. Absorbed in tryisg to compare each separate feature, Eve seemed lost in the intensity of her gaze, so that when—Adam suddenly looking round—their eyea met (during one of those lapses for which Time has no measurement) Eve sat fascinated and unable to withdraw her gaze. A kindred feeling had apparently overcome Adam too, for—tho spell broken—he jumped up, and with something between a shake and a shiver walked abruptly to the far end of the room. "Here, Adam," called out Joan, who had stepped into the outer kitchen, " don't 'cc go out now, like a dear. I'm just takin' the things up ; Bupper won't be a minute before it's in, and if it's put back now 'twill all be samsawed and not worth eatin'." And, to strengthen her entreaty, Bhe hastened in and Bet on the table a substantial amoking-hot pie. " Why, wherever now has Eve got to f' she exclaimed, looking round the room. " I left her sittin' there not a minute agone." "Eh ? what ? who's gone ?" exclaimed Uncle Zebedee, roused from a cat's sleep, in which, with a sailor-like adaptation of opportunity, he was always able to occupy any spare five minutes. "I think nhe ran upstaira," said Adam ; "here, I'll call her," he added, intercepting Joan as she moved towards the door, which, from the inner most portion of the room, led to the upper part of the house." " Couiiu Eve 1" he called out, " Cousin Eve, supper's waitin', but we can't begin till you come down." " Ibs, and bear a hand like a good maid," chimed in Uncle Zebedee, " for we haven't had nothin' to spake of to clane our teeth 'pon this last forty-eight hours or so ; and I for one am pretty sharp Bet, I can tell 'cc." This appeal being irresistible, Eve hastened down, to find Adam standing so that, when she put her hand on the door handle, he, under the pretence of opening it to a wider convenience, put his hand over hers, leaving Eve in doubt whether the unnecessary pressure was the result of accident or an attempt at reconciliation. One thing was evident, Adam was bent on thoroughly doing the honors of the table ; he made a point of assisting Eve himself ; he consulted her pre ference, and offered the various things to her— ' attentions which Eve, as a stranger and a guest,' thought herself, from the son of the house, per fectly entitled to, but which Joan viewed with amazement, not liking, as it was Adam, to inter* fere, but feeling confident that Eva must be very embarrassed by a politeness not at all current in Polperro, where the fashion was for the men to eat and drink, and the women to sit by and attend upon them. But Adam was often opposed to general usage, and any deviation was leniently accepted by Ejs friends as the result of his having bean schooled ! at Jersey—a circumstance that Joan considered he was now bent upon showing off; and noting . that, do or say what he might, Eva would not' raise her eyes, she pitied her confusion, and gooq* naturedly triad to come to her rescue by endea. { voring to start some conversation. > " Did 'cc try to reason with Jerrem, Adam T j she asked, reverting to a portion of their previoqß talk. ...... " Reason !" he answered pettishly. « what good is there in anybody reasoning with hjm f ? " Awh, but he'll always listen to a toft word," ' said Joan pleadingly, " you can lead Jerrem any* ' ways by kindness." ' "Pity you weren't there, then, to manage him," said Adam, in not the most pleasant tone of voice. " Well, I wish you had been there, Joan," said Uncle Zebedee, decisively, " for I ain't half well planed at the boy bein' left behind ; he'll be gettin' into some mischief that won't be aisy to free un from. I'd rather be half have spoke to un sharp mysel*. He always minds anythin' I says to un, he does." " 'Tis a pity then you've held your tongue so long," said Adam, whose face began to betray signs of rising displeasure. " I only know this, that over and over again you've said that you wouldn't run the risk of bein' kept waitin' about when he knew the time for Btartin'. Why, no later than the last run you said that if it hap pened agen you'd go without him." " Iss, iss—'tis true I said so," said the old man, querulously, " but he knaw'd I didn't mane it. How should I, when I've bin a youngster mysel', and all of us to Madam Perrot'a, dancin' and fid dlin' away like mad ? Why, little chap as I be," he added, looking round at the two girls with becoming pride, "'t 'as taken so many as six t' hold me ; and when they've a-gotten me to the boat they've had to thraw me into the water till I've bin a' but drownded 'fore they could knack a bit o' sense into me. But what of it all t why, I be none the wane for matter of that, I hopes." Adam felt his temper waxing hot within him, and having no wish that any further display of it should be then manifested he rose up from the table saying it was time he ran down to the boat again ; and old Zebedee, warned by an expressive frown from Joan, swallowed down the remainder of his reminiscences, and kept a discreet silence until the retreating footsteps of his Bon assured him that he could relieve himself without fear of censure. " 'Tis along of his bein' a echolard, I s'pose !" he exclaimed, with the air of one seeking to solve a perplexity, " but he's that agen anybody bein' the warse o' a drap o' liquor as niver was." "Jerrein's one that's too easily led astray," said Joan, by way of explaining to Eve the bear ings of the case, " and, once away, he forgets all but what's goin' on around un ; and that don't do, ye know, 'cos when ha's bin told that they'm to start at a certain time he ought to be there so well as the rest, 'specially as he knaws what Adam is." " Isb, aud that's the whole rights of it," re turned Zebedee, with a conclusive nod; " Maister Adam goes spakin' up about last tims. 'And miud, we ain't agoin' to wait for no wan' " —and the imitation ot his Bon'a voice conveyed the annoyance the words had probably given—" and the boy's blid was got up. 'Tis more than strange that they two, brought up like brothers, can't never steer wun course. I'd rayther than twenty pound that this hadn't happened," he added, after a pause. " But how corned 'cc to go when you knawed he wasn't there ?" asked Joan.

" I never knawed he warn't there," replied the old man. MI can't think how 'twas," he said, snatching his head in the effort to assist his memory ; " I'd a bin up to Remolds', takin' a drap wi' wan or two, and, somehow, I don't mind about nawthin' much more, till us was well past the Spikles ; and then, after a time, I axed for the lad, and out it all comes." " And what did 'cc Bay ?" said Joan. " Wa-al, what could I Bay ? nothin' that 'ud fetch un back then. 'Sides, Adam kept flingin' it at me how that I'd a said las' time I wud'nt wait agen. But what if I did ? I knawed, and he knawed, and Jerrem knawed, 'twas nawthin more than talk. Moreover which, I made sure he'd ha' come with Zeke Johns in the Stamp and 00. But no, they hadn't a laid eyes on un, though they started a good bit after we." " He's Bure to get on all right, I s'pose ?" said Eve, questioningly. " Awh, he can get on fast enough if he's a mind to. 'Taint that I'm thinkin' on, 'tis the bad blid a set brewin' 'twixt the two of 'em. If I only knawed how, I'd Bend un a bit o' my mind in a letter," he added, looking at Joan. " Wa-al, who could ub get to do it, then! There's Jan Curtis," she said reflectively, "only he'i to Looe ; and there's Sammy Tucker—but Lord 1 'twould be all over the place, and no hold ing mother anyways ; she'd be certain to let on to Adam." " It mustn't come to Adam's ears," said Zebe dee, decisively. " Can't 'cc think o' nobody else soholard enuff" " If it's nothing but a letter, I can write, Uncle Zebedee," said Eva rather shyly, and not quite clear whether Joan did or did not possess the like accomplishment. v Can 'cc though f exclaimed Uncle Zebedee, facing round to get a better view of this prodigy; while Joan, with a mixture of amazement and admiration, said : M Not for sure ? Well I niver ! And you'll do it too, won't'ear' " With all my heart, If unole will tell me what to uy." M But, mind, not a word before Adam, Eve," said Joan, hastily ; " 'cobs, if he's minded, he can write a hand like copperplate." 44 And 'cc thinks two of a trade wouldn't agree, is that it r laughed Zebedee. Joan shook her head. M Never you mind," she said, " but only wait till next Valentine's day's a come, and won't us two have a rig with somebody that shall be nameless !" "Only hark to her!" chuckled old Zebedee, answering Joan's significant look by the most appreciative wink. "Ah I but her*s a good hearted maid," he said, addressing Eve ; " and," he added, with a confidential application of his hand to his month, "if but they as shall be nameless would but voo her through my eyes, her should curl up her hair on her weddin night m flve-ponnd notes, as her biassed aunt, my poor miafe, did afore her, dear sawL" [to v ooxTOtuko.)