the moment's silence that followed.

"Is that all you know, Gauger Hocken?"

"Iss, iss: can't stop no longer--must be off to warn the Methodeys!
'Stablished Church first, but fair play's a jewel, say I."

He rushed off inland towards High Lanes, where the meeting-house stood.
Parson Babbage closed the book without finishing his sentence, and his
audience scrambled out over the graves and forth upon the headland.
The wind here came howling across the short grass, blowing the women's
skirts wide and straining their bonnet-strings, pressing the men's
trousers tight against their shins as they bent against it in the
attitude of butting rams and scanned the coast-line to the sou'-west.
Ruby Tresidder, on gaining the porch, saw Young Zeb tumble out of the
stairway leading from the gallery and run by, stowing the pieces of his
flute in his pocket as he went, without a glance at her. Like all the
rest, he had clean forgotten the banns.

Now, Ruby was but nineteen, and had seen plenty of wrecks, whereas these
banns were to her an event of singular interest, for weeks anticipated
with small thrills. Therefore, as the people passed her by, she felt
suddenly out of tune with them, especially with Zeb, who, at least,
might have understood her better. Some angry tears gathered in her eyes
at the callous indifference of her father, who just now was revolving in
the porch like a weathercock, and shouting orders east, west, north, and
south for axes, hammers, ladders, cart-ropes, in case the vessel struck
within reach.

"You, Jim Lewarne, run to the mowhay, hot-foot, an' lend a hand wi' the