TAKE NOTICE.

ALL WIMMEN FOUND TRAPESING ON THIS BEECH WILL BE DEALT WITH ACCORDING TO THE LAW.

Above this notice jauntily rested the Admiral's c.o.c.ked-hat, which had drifted ash.o.r.e further up on the shingle--an awful witness to the earnestness of the threat and the vanity of human greatness.

Caleb stood in front of his handiwork and gazed at it with honest pride for some minutes; then went into the house to fetch Mr. Fogo forth to look. He was absent for some minutes. When he returned with his master, their eyes were greeted with a curious sight.

On the spit of shingle, and staring open-mouthed at the notice, stood the Twins, their honest faces expressing the extreme of perplexity.

A few yards off the sh.o.r.e, in their boat, waited Tamsin, and leant quietly on her paddles.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Staring open-mouthed at the notice.]

At the sight of her, Caleb's face fell a full inch; but he led his master down and planted him resolutely in front of the board.

Mr. Fogo stared helplessly from it to the Twins.

"Mornin', sir," said Peter, after a long pause. His face wore a deepened colour, and he smiled awkwardly.

"Good-morning," replied Mr. Fogo.

"A fine mornin'," repeated Peter, with a long gaze at the board, "an'

no mistake."

There was another long interval, during which everybody stared hard at the Notice.

"'Tes a powerful fine mornin'," Peter re-a.s.serted very slowly, "ef so be as your station in life es in noways connected with turmuts.

Ef 'tes the less us says about the mornin' the better." With this observation Peter looked hard at Mr. Fogo, as if the ball of conversation now lay in that gentleman's hands.

"What do 'ee think o' this 'ere Notice?" broke in Caleb.

Paul twitched his yellow bandanna and smiled evasively.

"'Tes very pretty writin', sir, sure-ly," he replied, addressing Mr.

Fogo. "Nice thick down-strokes, an' all as it shou'd be."

"Uncommon fash'nubble et makes the beach look, sir, a'ready," added Peter.

Some mental reservation seemed to lurk behind this criticism.

Mr. Fogo looked dubiously from the Twins to Caleb, who stood with his eyes fixed on his handiwork.

"Axin' your pard'n, sir, an' makin' so free as to mention et," began Peter at length, pulling off his hat and twirling the brim between his fingers, "but us was a bit taken aback, not understandin' as fash'nubbleness was to begin so smart; or us wou'dn't have introoded--spesh'ly Tamsin. Tamsin was thinkin' this mornin' as a pound of fresh b.u.t.ter might be acceptable to the gentl'm'n down at Kit's House, wi' ha'f a dozen fresh eggs or so, 'cos her Minorcy hen began to lay agen last week, an' the spickaty Hamburg as allays lays double yolks; an' Paul an' me agreed you wudn' be above acceptin' a little present o' this natur', not seemin' proud, an' Tamsin shou'd bring et hersel', the eggs bein' hers in a manner o' speakin'.

But us was not wishful to introod, sir, an' iver since us seed the board here, her's been keepin' her distance in the boat yonder; on'y us stepped ash.o.r.e to larn ef there was anything us cou'd do to make things ship-shape an' fitty for 'ee."

At the end of this long address, Peter, whose mahogany face was several shades deeper, pulled up, and resumed his hat.

"Ship-shape an' fitty--not wishful for to introod. That's so, Peter," echoed his brother.

Mr. Fogo looked at the pair helplessly, and again at Caleb, whose eyes were obstinately averted.

"Caleb!"

"Sir."

"Ask Miss Dearlove if she would mind stepping ash.o.r.e."

With a sudden brightening of face, Caleb called her name.

Tamsin looked up.

"Ef 'ee please, you'm to come ash.o.r.e, to wance!"

The girl rowed a couple of strokes, grounded the boat, and stepped lightly ash.o.r.e with a big basket and an unembarra.s.sed glance at the Notice.

"There's a few young potatoes at the bottom," she said, with a curtsey, as she handed her gift to Mr. Fogo. "They're the earliest and best anywhere in these parts. Can you cook potatoes?" she asked, suddenly turning to Caleb. Beneath her sun-bonnet her pretty cheek was flushed, and her chin thrust forward with just a shadow of defiance.

"Iss, to be sure," grinned Caleb. "Why, us does our own washin'."

Tamsin's eyes travelled without bashfulness over the array upon the beach.

"Pretty washing, I expect!" She walked up and took some of the clothes into her hand. "Look here--not half-wrung--and some fallen in the mud and dirtied worse than ever."

With fine contempt she moved among the clothes, wrung them, spread them out again, and even returned with some to the wash-tub.

Like four whipped schoolboys the males looked on as she tucked up the sleeves of her neat print gown.

"Soap, too, left to float in the wash-tub, and--salt water I declare!

Caleb, empty this and get some soft water from the old b.u.t.t by the back door. Oh, you poor, helpless baby!"

Mr. Fogo, though the words were not spoken to him, winced and turned to stare abstractedly at the river.

"Sir," said Caleb from his hammock that night, "cudn' 'ee put in a coddysel?"

"A codicil?"

"Iss, just to say, 'No wimmen allowed but Tamsin Dearlove--us don't mind she.' Wudn' that do, sir?"

"I'm afraid not, Caleb. By-the-bye, how does your Notice run?

'All women found trespa.s.sing will be--'"

"Dealt wi' 'cordin' to the law, sir."

"Dear me, Caleb!" murmured Mr. Fogo, "but I trust that under no circ.u.mstances should I deal with a woman otherwise than according to the law."

CHAPTER IX.