"Yes?" said the visitor inquiringly; "and what does he do with his guns and powder when he makes them?" "I cannot say," replied the baronet; "only that they are shipped away, and go down the little river here out to sea in the same ship that brings him sulphur from Sicily and Chinese salt from the far East. That was one of the captain's men." "What captain? What men?" "That tall, stout fellow we talked with--Wat Kilby--he is the captain's head man--Captain Carr--Culverin Carr they call him here." "A fine, handsome, corsair-like fellow, with the look of a Spaniard and the daring of a hero?" said the visitor mockingly. "Yes," said the baronet quietly; "you have just described him, Sir Mark. His father, they say, went with Sir Walter Raleigh on his ill-fated expedition. The son was in the same ship, and when old Captain Carr died he left his son to the care of his crew." "And they made the youth their captain," said Mistress Anne, with heightened colour. "Yes," said Sir Thomas, "and he has been their captain ever since." "But," said Sir Mark curiously, "what are they--buccaneers--pirates?" "Heaven knows," said Sir Thomas, giving a glance round. "There are matters, Sir Mark," he continued nervously, "that it is not always wise to discuss in a place where the very trees have ears." "Absurd!" cried Sir Mark. "Here, in his Majesty's dominions, all men should be able to speak freely, and you excite my curiosity, Sir Thomas. Please to bear in mind that I am his Highness's representative," he continued stiffly, "sent here upon a special ambassage. Reports have reached the Court of a reckless buccaneering party, of the refuse and dregs of Raleigh's freebooters, haunting the south coast; but I knew not that it was here in Sussex." "For heaven's sake, Sir Mark," whispered the baronet, mopping his face, "be advised and say no more. The place here is haunted by them, and they do what pleases them best. I am a justice, Sir Mark, but my authority is set at naught. You heard that man Kilby, how wanting in reverence he was? He is a sample of the rest, and I pray nightly when their ship sails from here that she may never return again." "A noble Christian-like feeling," cried Sir Mark. "But, tut, tut, Sir Thomas, this must not be. Rouse up, man. These knaves must be brought to book if they don't behave. Have no fear, sir; a word from me to the King, and his Majesty's wisdom would be brought to bear on the need of sweeping this place clear of such dregs." Sir Thomas was gazing uneasily around, while Mistress Anne seemed to cast off her mincing ways, and her eyes flashed eagerly as she drank in the young courtier's words.