charge of two policemen their terror became wild.  And yet they both said afterwards that they could hardly help laughing out loud.  The pink muslin was draggled and besmeared with harbour mud, and torn half out of the gathers.  Its owner was in a state of rage, terror, and hysterics.  The commotion was fearful.  It was very strange she did not seem to have the faintest suspicion of any of our party.  She was sure the men were drunk because they carried her so unsteadily.  She was positive they meant to rob her or something worse.  She saw them as they were running away.  They were the very same men who always carried her.  She never could bear those men.  They looked more like demons than men.  She would leave the place next day.  She had been disgraced.  Everybody hated her, nobody had any pity.  She would go to bed.  Don’t speak to her—­go away—­go away, do!  Brandy and water, certainly not! and so on.  Till at last Mrs. Porkington prevailed on her to go to bed.  We had all vanished as quickly as we could and smoked a pipe, discussing in low tones the lowering appearance of the skies above us, and the consequences which might ensue upon those inquiries which we foresaw must inevitably take place.

I never quite knew how it was managed, but two policemen came the next morning and actually examined our boots and trousers, and then had a long interview with Mr. Porkington; and finally we, who were waiting in terror in the dining-room, saw the pair of them go out of the front door, touching their hats to Porkington.  I thought at the time that he must have bribed them; but afterwards, on thinking it over, I came to the conclusion that there was no evidence of the complicity of our party.  Of course, the sedan men did not know what had happened.  Porkington stoutly refused to let the policemen come into our study, and told them he should regard them as trespassers if they ventured to go into any other room.  The Drag, although she declared she knew the two men, had no desire to bring the matter before the public.  Porkington never said a word to any of us upon the subject, though he looked cross and nervous.  As soon as the aunt had taken her departure (which she did the next day) he quite recovered his good humour, and, I believe, even chuckled inwardly at the episode.  The Babbicombe Independent had an amusing paragraph upon the incident, and opined that some drunken sailors from one of the neighbouring ports were the perpetrators of the coarse practical joke; but we found that the general opinion among the visitors was not so wide of the truth.  However, as no one cared for the lady it took less than nine days to get rid of the wonder.

CHAPTER VI.—­THE SHORE.

“Barton,” said Glenville, “I want to speak to you, old chap.  You won’t mind me speaking to you, will you?”

Barton’s brow clouded at once.  He knew what was coming.  “I don’t know what you mean,” said he.