furriners aboard, by the way she was worked. I seed her miss stays
twice myself: so when Jonathan turns up wi' this tale, I says to
myself, 'tis the very same. Though 'tis terrible queer he never
heard nowt; but he ain't got a ha'porth o' gumption, let alone that
by time he's been cloppin' round his seven mile o' beat half a dozen
ships might go to kingdom come."

With this, for we had come to the door of Lantrig, Joe bid me
good-bye, and turned along the cliffs to seek fresh news at
Polkimbra.

Instead of going indoors at once I watched his short, oddly-shaped
figure stride away, and then sat down on the edge of the cliff for a
minute to collect my thoughts. The day was ripening into that mellow
glory which is the peculiar grace of autumn. Below me the sea, still
flaked with spume, was gradually heaving to rest; the morning light
outlined the cliffs in glistening prominence, and clothed them, as
well as the billowy clouds above, with a reality which gave the lie
to my morning's adventure. The old doorway, too, looked so familiar
and peaceful, the old house so reassuring, that I half wondered if I
had not two lives, and were not coming back to the old quiet everyday
experience again.

Suddenly I remembered the packet and the letter. I put my hand into
my pocket and drew them out. The packet was a tin box, strapped
around with a leathern band: on the top, between the band and the
box, was a curious piece of yellow metal that looked like the half of
a waist-buckle, having a socket but without any corresponding hook.
On the metal were traced some characters which I could not read.
The tin box was heavy and plain, and the strap soaking with salt