"Let them go on thinking so," said Harry at last. "Better that I should be dead to every one I know." "Now, Master Harry, don't you talk like that. You don't know what may happen next. You're talking in the dark now. When you wake up in the sunshine to-morrow morning you'll think quite different to this." "No," he said, "I must go right away; but I shall stay in hiding here for a few days first. Will you bring me a little food from time to time, unknown to any one?" "Why of course I will, dear lad. But why don't you put on your pea-jacket and weskit? They is dry now." Harry shuddered as he glanced at the rough garments the woman was turning over. "Throw them here on the dry sand," he said hastily. "I don't want them now." "There you are, then, dear lad," said the old woman, spreading out the drowned man's clothes; "p'r'aps they are a bit damp yet. And now I must go. There's what's left in the bottle, and there's a fried mackerel and the rest of the loaf. That'll keep you from starving, and to-morrow night I'll see if I can't bring you something better." "And you'll be true to me?" "Don't you be afraid of that," said the old woman quietly, as Harry clasped her arm. "Why, you are quite wet," he said. "Wet! Well, if you'll tell me how to get in there with the tide pretty high and not be wet I should like to know it. Why, I had hard work to keep the basket out of the water, and one corner did go in." "And you'll have to wade out," said Harry thoughtfully. "Well, what of that? How many times have I done the same to get alongside of a lugger after fish? Drop o' salt water won't hurt me, Master Harry; I'm too well tanned for that." "I seem to cause trouble and pain to all I know," he said mournfully. "What's a drop o' water?" said the old woman with a laugh. "Here, you keep that lantern up in the corner, so as nobody sees the light. There's another candle there, and a box o' matches; and now I'm going. Goodbye, dear lad." "Good-bye," he said, with a shudder; "I trust you, mind." "Trust me! Why, of course you do. Good-night." "One moment," said Harry. "What is the time?" "Lor', how particular people are about the time when they've got naught to do. Getting on for twelve, I should say. There, good-night. Don't you come and get wet too." She stepped boldly into the water, and waded on with the depth increasing till it was up to her shoulders, and then Harry Vine watched her till she disappeared, and the yellow light of the lantern shone on the softly heaving surface, glittering with bubbles, which broke and flashed. Then, by degrees, the rushing sound made by the water died out, and the lit-up place seemed more terrible than the darkness of the nights before.