"Ha! I guessed thy deviltry, Dickon," said Rob, with a laugh which, as always happened when much moved, brought tears down his cheeks--"I guessed it when I saw thee step across the door-sill with that large and suspicious sombrero on thy head. It never came from Holland--though you would fain persuade the province folks that you trade no where else: it is of the breed of the tropics, and smells of Hispaniola and Santo Domingo." "It is a tell-tale," replied Cocklescraft, "and should have been thrown overboard before this. Old Kate of Warrington, thy hand--and here is a hand for thee! How does the world use thee? Fairly, I hope, as you deserve? You shall have the sombrero, Kate: you can truss it up into a new fashion for a bonnet, and I have store of ribands to give thee to set it off." "My share of this world's favour," said the crone, in acknowledgment of the skipper's bounty, "has never been more than the cast-off bravery of such as hold a high head over a wicked heart. I have ever served at the mess of the devil's bantlings. But, as the custom is, I must be civil and thankful for these blessings; and so, Master Cocklescraft, I give you thanks," she added with a courtesy, as she placed the hat upon her head and strutted fantastically in the room, "for your dainty head-gear that you are unwilling to wear, and durst not, master, before the Port Wardens of St. Mary's." "How, Kate!" exclaimed the skipper, "you have lost no whit of that railing tongue I left with you at my last venture? I marvel that the devil hath not shorn it, out of pure envy. But I know, Kate, you can do justice to the good will of a friend, after all: I would have thee to know that thou hast not been unconsidered, good mother of a thousand devilkins: I have brought thee stuff for a new gown, rich and ladylike, Kate, and becoming thy grave and matronly years, and sundry trickeries for it, by way of garniture; and, reverend dam of night-monsters, I have in store for thee some most choice distillations of the West Indies, both plain and spiced. Thou dost not spurn the strong waters, Kate of Warrington,--nor the giver of them?" "This is a make-peace fashion of thine," said the beldam, relaxing into a smile. "You thought not of the woman of Warrington--no, not so much as a dog's dream of her--until it chanced to come into your head that the foolish crone had a will which it might not be for your good to set against you. I knew your incoming, Richard Cocklescraft, before it was thought of in the province; and I know when your outgoing will be. You come with a surly sky and a gay brow;--you shall trip it hence with a bright heaven above you, and deftly, boy--but with a heavy heart and a new crime upon thy soul."