“Pray call early to-morrow, Mr Ramsden, and let us know how Mr Spinney is going on,” said Newton, extending his hand as the surgeon rose to depart.  Mr Ramsden shook it warmly, and quitted the house:  he had left them about half-an-hour when Betsy made her appearance with some fomentations, which had been prepared in the kitchen.  Out of revenge for sundry blows daily received, and sundry epithets hourly bestowed upon her by her mistress, the moment she entered she exclaimed, in a half-crying tone, “O dear, Mr Newton! there’s such shocking news just come from the parsonage; Mr Spinney is just dead, and my missis will be hanged!”

Mrs Forster said not a word; she quailed under dread of the report being correct.  Newton and his father looked at each other; their mute anguish was expressed by covering up their faces with their hands.

When Hilton and the curate arranged their plans for the mortification of Mrs Forster, it was considered advisable that Newton (who was not so easily to be imposed upon) should be removed out of the way.  Hilton had already stated his intention to give him charge of the vessel; and he now proposed sending him for a cargo of shingle, which was lying ready for her, about fifty miles down the coast, and which was to be delivered at Waterford.  At an early hour, on the ensuing morning, he called at Forster’s house.  Newton, who had not taken off his clothes, came out to meet him.

“Well, Newton, how is your mother?” said Hilton, “I hope you are not angry with me:  I certainly was the occasion of the accident, but I could not bear to see your worthy father treated in that manner.”

“I blush to acknowledge, Mr Hilton, that she deserved it all,” replied Newton; “but I am very much alarmed about the condition of Mr Spinney.  Have you heard this morning?”

“No; but between ourselves, Newton, doctors always make the worst of their cases.  I never heard of a pewter-pot killing a man; he’ll do well enough, never fear.  I came to tell you that I’ve a letter last night from Repton, who says that the shingle must be delivered before the tenth of next month, or the contract will be void.  He desires that I will send the sloop directly, or he must employ another craft.  Now, I think you had better start at once; there’s a nice fair wind for you, and you’ll be down afore night.”

“Why, really, Mr Hilton, I do not exactly like to leave home just now,” replied Newton, thoughtfully.

“Well, as you please, Mr Forster,” rejoined Hilton, with apparent displeasure.  “I have offered you the command of the vessel, and now you object to serve my interests on the very first occasion, merely because there are a couple of broken heads!”

“I am wrong, most certainly,” replied Newton; “I beg your pardon—­I will just speak a word or two to my father, and be on board in less than half an hour.”

“I will meet you there,” said Hilton, “and bring your papers.  Be as quick as you can, or you’ll lose the first of the tide.”