to be of no account to the former owner, so hard did he work with the
residue of his body, and so much did he express with it.

His noble cocked hat was in its leathern box yet, for he was only just
come from Merton; but the broad felt he wore was looped up in front,
and displayed all the power of his countenance, or rather the vigor; for
power is heavy, and his face was light and quickness. Softness also, and
a melancholy gift of dreaminess and reflection, enlarged and impressed
the effect of a gaze and a smile which have conquered history.

"Why don't 'ee speak up to 'un, Cap'en Zeb?" cried young Harry Shanks,
of the Peggy, the smartest smack next to the Rosalie. "Whoever can 'a
be, to make thee so dumb? Doth 'a know our own business afore our own
selves? If 'ee don't speak up to 'un, Cap'en Zeb, I'll never take no
more commands from thee."

"Harry Shanks, you was always a fool, and you always will be," Master
Tugwell replied, with his deep chest voice, which no gale of wind could
blow away. "Whether he be wrong or right--and I won't say but what I
might have done it better--none but a fool like you would dare to set
his squeak up against Admirable Lord Nelson."



CHAPTER IV

AND HER FAITHFUL CHAPLAIN


"I am not a man of the world, but a man of the Word," said Parson