The weather began to be tiresome just about now, never two days alike, never morning and afternoon alike. Probably the old saying about an intoxicated moon had something to do with it. The crew of the _Messenger_ were not deterred, however; they sailed in fits and starts, gaining excellent experience of management and a lot of good exercise and salt air. "Sooner them than me," said Keziah, shivering ostentatiously as she closed a rain-spattered casement with a bang. "Every man to his taste, but however anybody can look to a sailor’s life----" "_I_’m going to be a sailor," said Hughie from a kneeling position before a chair, on the seat of which he was preparing a diminutive brush, and equally small pot of varnish for use upon "blocks" no bigger than young green peas. "It’s as good as any other way of living, Keziah. If you’re drowned you can’t be smashed in a railway accident, or die of small-pox. Even soldiers have to be buried--we don’t. It’s much the tidiest way." Keziah departed in haste with a "Go on, Master Hughie, tidy indeed!" and told Mrs. Jeep that "the sayings of that child were past all knowledge". Hughie chuckled to himself, well aware he had shocked Keziah, and went upstairs to wash his hands for lunch. He was looking forward to an afternoon after his own heart--nasty weather out of doors, and peaceful hours in the cave, finishing "rigging". Pamela was rather distraite at lunch. After days of peace and ordinary "old-fashioned" life, as she called things as they were, a little letter had reached her that morning, not by hand--not thrown in at the window--posted the day before in Bell Bay probably, postmark Ramsworthy, the nearest office. It was from the Countess. Its tone was kind, was friendly, was even a little humble. She was very lonely and unhappy, she had no one to speak to, and would Pamela please meet her for only ten minutes in the wood behind Crown Hill next day? She suggested half-past five--allowing time for Pamela’s tea, she said--and declared that she would go in any case, just in the hope of seeing Pamela. She asked if Pam would wait till six o’clock if no one appeared, because it wasn’t always easy to get out. Finally she asserted that she had been very patient and very miserable for a long, long time--nearly two weeks--and it couldn’t hurt anybody if Pamela came and talked to her for ten minutes. There is small doubt, perhaps, that Pam should not have considered such a proposition. But it must be remembered that she knew nothing at all about Miss Anne’s strict injunction, or the importance of the rules set for the Woodrising household.