"What, Hendy?--Hendy makes all his long letters straight up an' down,
while these be made with loops. The writin's sloped backwards too,
with a rake on it, same as was fash'nable on some o' the tea-clippers
in my young days, but now 'tis seldom carried 'nless by a few
steam-yachts."

"Well, hand me over the thing--I'll risk it," said Nicky-Nan.

He took the missive and glanced at the address--"Mr N. Nanjivell,
_Naval Reservist_, Polpier R.S.O., Cornwall." The words "_Naval
Reservist_" underlined gave him a tremor. But it was too late to
draw back. He broke open the envelope, drew forth the letter,
unfolded it, and ran his eye hurriedly overleaf, seeking the
signature.

"Why, 'tisn' signed!"

"Not signed?" echoed Lippity-Libby. "That's as much as to say
'nonymous." Suddenly he slapped his thigh. "There now! O' course--
why, what a forgetful head is mine! And simme I knew that hand, too,
all the while."

"Eh?"

"Yes, to be sure--'tis the same that, up to two years ago, used to
write an' send all the 'nonymous letters in Polpier. The old woman
an' I, we tracked it down to one of two, an' both females. It lay
between 'em, and I was for old Ann' Bunney--she bein' well known for
a witch. But now that can't be, for the woman's gone to Satan these