"And twice as much more--perhaps three times--when I die," said the founder, with a smile of self-satisfaction, which increased as he saw Sir Mark move his hand as he recovered from his surprise. "Money is no object to me," he said; "I love Mistress Mace for her worth alone." "And you'd marry her without a penny." "Ye-es, of course," cried Sir Mark; "give me your consent." "Nay--nay, my lad, not I," said the founder. "My Mace is no meet match for thee; and, as my guest, I ask you to say no foolish nonsense to the child. She has had silly notions enough put into her head by Gil Carr." "But that is all over now, Master Cobbe," cried Sir Mark. "I pray you give me your consent. I may be recalled to-day." "I am glad to hear it," said the founder. "You have been here too long, and I don't know, even now, that it is all over with Gil Carr. I'm not going to break my child's heart, and--hey-day, tit, child, what's wrong?" he cried, as, with a face white as ashes, and her eyes dilate with horror, Mace ran quickly into the room followed by Janet. "Gil! father," she cried, hoarsely; and then, with a shudder, her eyes closed and her head sank upon his breast. "Why, child, what now? Has he dared? Speak, wench," he cried, stamping his foot, as he turned upon the trembling serving-maid, "what is it?" "Captain Culverin, master," she whispered, trembling--"Mas' Wat Kilby." "What of them, fool?" cried the founder, excitedly. "Drowned, master--in the Pool, and they're bringing their bodies now ashore!" Volume 2, Chapter III. HOW WAT KILBY LED THE WAY. In his excitement the founder hastily laid Mace on the couch and rushed out, when Sir Mark was about to run to the poor girl's side, to seize his opportunity, and press his lips to hers, but he was forestalled by Janet, who, with flashing eyes, leaped between them to cry spitefully, "Nay; and if thou must kiss aught, kiss me. Thou can'st not want to kiss two maidens in one day." With an angry ejaculation Sir Mark turned aside and followed the founder, who was running along the side of the Pool to where a group of his people were busy round a boat just drawn up close to the edge, with Father Brisdone and Master Peasegood in the midst, giving directions to the men who were lifting a couple of bodies towards a shed half-filled with soft dogwood charcoal. For it had been an awkward night with Gil Carr and his companion. They had plunged boldly into the Pool, finding it at the side come up to mid-thigh, and the bottom sandy; but before they had cautiously proceeded far, taking care that the water did not splash, it became shallower, and Gil asked old Wat in a whisper whether they were not too near the shore.