"Poor lass. I dedn' expect nothin' differ'nt. I've most a mind to go up Drift an' see her--for a reason I've thot upon. Did Joan say anythin' 'bout a last will an' testament to 'e?" "No, nothin' 'bout anything worth namin'. But Polly had a deal to say. Her wished her could send faither a pound o' charity 'stead o' butter." "She dared!" At that moment Mr. Tregenza returned to supper, and soon afterward his son went to bed. The lad had not been asleep half an hour before Gray Michael came across the basket from Drift. Two minutes later Tom heard the thunder of his father's voice. "Tom! you come down here an' be sharp about it!" The boy tumbled out of bed instantly, and went down to the kitchen in his nightshirt and trousers. Michael Tregenza was standing by the table. Upon it appeared the basket from Drift, stored with cream, butter, eggs and apples. Thomasin sat in the low chair by the fire with her apron over her face, and that was always a bad sign, as Tom knew. "What day be this, bwoy?" began Michael. "The Lard's, faither." "Ay: the Lard's awn day, though you've forgot it seemin'ly." "No I abbun, faither." "Doan't 'e answer me 'cept I tells you to. Where did these things come from?" "Drift, faither. Uncle Chirgwin bid me bring 'em with his respects." "Did you tell en 'twas breakin' the commandments?" "No, faither." "Why didn't 'e? You knawed it yourself." "Iss, faither; but uncle's a ancient man, an' I guessed he knawed so well as me, an' I reckoned 'twould be sauce for such as me to say anything to a auld, gray body like him." "Sinners is all colors an' ages. Another time doan't you do what's wrong, whether 'tis auld or young as tempts 'e to't. You'm a Luke Gosp'ler, an' it edn' being a shinin' light 'tall to go wrong just because wan as did ought to knaw wiser an' doan't, tells 'e to. Now you can lace on your boots, as soon as you'm minded to, an' traapse up Drift with that theer basket an' all in it. 'Twon't harm godless folks to wake 'em an' faace 'em with their wrongdoing. An' I lay you'll remember another time." Tom, knowing that words would be utterly wasted, went back to his attic, dressed, and started. He had the satisfaction of eating apples in the moonlight and of posing as a bitterly wronged boy at Drift when Mary came down, lighted a candle, and let him into the house. Uncle Chirgwin also appeared, and said some hard things in a sleepy voice, while Tom drank cider and ate a big slice of bread and bacon. "A terrible Old Testament man, your faither, sure 'nough," said Uncle Chirgwin. "Be you gwaine to stop the night 'long o' us or no?" "Not me! I got to be in the bwoat 'fore half-past five to-morrer marnin'." "This marnin' 'tis," said Mary, "or will be in a few minutes. An' you can tell your faither what I said 'bout charity, if you like. I sez it again, an' it won't hurt en to knaw." "But it might hurt me to tell. The less said soonest mended wi' faither."