"Why not, skipper? Because it would lower you in the eyes of every man of the crew. What! after the oath we swore, and after the way the boys have kept it, for you, our captain, to go and let loose a varmin who had broken in and was robbing you, perhaps hunting out the savings and trade every man has got stored up here? Nay, captain, it would be degrading you in the eyes of all." "What would you have done, then?" "What would I have done?" said Wat. "Why, same as you did--killed him like the varmin he was, and buried him in the mixen or under the stones." "You really believe, then, that I killed this man in cold blood?" "Why, of course, skipper; you couldn't do otherwise. As to a man and cold blood! bah! he was a rat, and he was caught. Do you know how the lads searched the little valley?" "No." "Crept through the wood, pooked the grass aside, and sat down and smoked," said Wat with a chuckle. "Then they did not properly search it?" "Of course not," cried Wat, gruffly. "You don't suppose they wanted to find that girt fox, do you?" "Wat," cried the captain angrily, "you disobeyed my orders. That place shall be searched, and that at once." "What--and try to warm up the scent again, captain? Nay, he's sattled, let sleeping dogs lie. The world's all the better for there being no Abel Churr; and the adders and things can have a chance of marrying and having families without being pulled out of their holes by the tail." As he spoke, the old sailor turned away, and Gil walked to the cottage where he had his temporary home. That night on the dark bank in front of the Pool-house four glow-worms shone out for the first time for weeks, and Gil Carr walked across the little swing-bridge towards the founder's garden. The sight of a few glow-worms on that bank might have been expected after the many that had been placed there at various times by Gil, but they never stayed long, for the blackbird or thrush generally made a meal of them; and when, on that night, Mace went up to her room, glancing out as was her custom before drawing the blind, she knew that before long there would be some one waiting beneath the casement, and her heart began to beat. She had not seen Gil since the evening of his encounter with Sir Mark, and, truth to tell, she had watched night after night to see if he would try to see her, and sad of heart had gone to her sleepless couch without a sign. Sir Mark was still there, but was to leave in a day or two, having sent on his report of the works, and pleading ill-health as a reason for staying longer. But his conduct to her had changed. There was less of the sighing gallant in his manner, though he appeared pained by her coldness, and treated her with studied respect. The founder and he seemed to be growing firm friends, though Mace with pain saw that the visitor was gaining an ascendancy over her father's actions that augured no future good.