held manorial rights over Monkshaven.

Of course the much frequented space surrounding the Butter Cross was
the favourite centre for shops; and on this day, a fine market day,
just when good housewives begin to look over their winter store of
blankets and flannels, and discover their needs betimes, these shops
ought to have had plenty of customers. But they were empty and of
even quieter aspect than their every-day wont. The three-legged
creepie-stools that were hired out at a penny an hour to such
market-women as came too late to find room on the steps were
unoccupied; knocked over here and there, as if people had passed by
in haste.

Molly took in all at a glance, and interpreted the signs, though she
had no time to explain their meaning, and her consequent course of
action, to Sylvia, but darted into a corner shop.

'T' whalers is coming home! There's one lying outside t' bar!'

This was put in the form of an assertion; but the tone was that of
eager cross-questioning.

'Ay!' said a lame man, mending fishing-nets behind a rough deal
counter. 'She's come back airly, and she's brought good news o' t'
others, as I've heered say. Time was I should ha' been on th'
staithes throwing up my cap wit' t' best on 'em; but now it pleases
t' Lord to keep me at home, and set me to mind other folks' gear.
See thee, wench, there's a vast o' folk ha' left their skeps o'
things wi' me while they're away down to t' quay side. Leave me your
eggs and be off wi' ye for t' see t' fun, for mebbe ye'll live to be