With these words Mr. Mordacks took from an inner pocket a little pill-box, and thence produced a globe, or rather an oblate spheroid, of bright gold, rather larger than a musket-ball, but fluted or crenelled like a poppy-head, and stamped or embossed with marks like letters. Widow Precious looked down at it, as if to think what an extraordinary thing it was, but truly to hide from the stranger her surprise at the sudden recognition. For Robin Lyth was a foremost favorite of hers, and most useful to her vocation; and neither fifty guineas nor five hundred should lead her to do him an injury. At a glance she had known that this bead must belong to the set from which Robin's ear-rings came; and perhaps it was her conscience which helped her to suspect that a trap was being laid for the free-trade hero. To recover herself, and have time to think, as well as for closer discretion, she invited Master Mordacks to the choice guest-chamber. “Set ye doon, Sir, hereaboot,” she said, opening a solid door into the inner room; “neaver gain no fear at aw o' crackin' o' the setties; fairm, fairm anoo' they be, thoo sketterish o' their lukes, Sir. Set ye doon, your Warship; fafty poons desarveth a good room, wi'oot ony lugs o' anemees.” “What a beautiful room!” exclaimed Mr. Mordacks; “and how it savors of the place! I never should have thought of finding art and taste of such degree in a little place like Flamborough. Why, madam, you must have inherited it direct from the Danes themselves.” “Naw, Sir, naw. I fetched it aw oop fra the breck of the say and the cobbles. Book-folk tooneth naw heed o' what we do.” “Well, it is worth a great deal of heed. Lovely patterns of sea-weed on the floor--no carpet can compare with them; shelves of--I am sure I don't know what--fished up from the deep, no doubt; and shells innumerable, and stones that glitter, and fish like glass, and tufts like lace, and birds with most wonderful things in their mouths: Mistress Precious, you are too bad. The whole of it ought to go to London, where they make collections!” “Lor, Sir, how ye da be laffin' at me. But purty maa be said of 'em wi'out ony lees.” The landlady smiled as she set for him a chair, toward which he trod gingerly, and picking every step, for his own sake as well as of the garniture. For the black oak floor was so oiled and polished, to set off the pattern of the sea-flowers on it (which really were laid with no mean taste and no small sense of color), that for slippery boots there was some peril.