"The _Glad Tidings_, of Looe, and thither bound. Who be you?" "Water-guard. Is that you speaking, Mr. Pengelly?" "Ay, sure. Anything the matter?" "Seen such a thing as the body of a young chimney-sweep on your way down? Age, ten or thereabouts. There's one missing." "You don't say so! Drowned?" His wife having put about, Mr. Pengelly obligingly hauled a sheet or two to windward, and brought the _Glad Tidings_ almost to a standstill, allowing the boat to come close alongside. "Drowned?" he asked again. "Worse than that," said the officer's voice (and it sounded dreadfully close); "there's been murder committed, and the child was in the house at the time. The belief is, he's been made away with." "Save us all! Murder? Whereto?" "On the Barbican--an old Jew there, called Rodriguez. Who's that you've got at the helm?" "Missus." "Never knew ye was married." "Nor did I, till this mornin'." "Eh? Wish ye luck, I'm sure; and you, ma'am, likewise!" "Thank ye, Mr. Tucker," answered the lady. "The same to you and many of 'em--which by that I don't mean wives." "Good Lord, is that _you_, Sally? Well, I'm jiggered! And I owe you ninepence for that last pair of flatfish you sold me!" "Tenpence," said Mrs. Pengelly. "But I can trust a gentleman. Where d'ye say this here murder was committed?" "Barbican." "I don't wonder at anything happening there. They're a stinking lot. Why don't ye s'arch the shipping there and in Cattewater?" "We've been s'arching all day. And now the constables are off towards Stoke--it seems a child answering all particulars was seen in that direction this morning." "That don't look like being made away with." "In a case like this," answered Mr. Tucker sagely, "as often as not there's wheels within wheels. Well, I won't detain ye. Good-night, friends!" "Good-night!" I heard the creak of thole-pins as the rowers gave way, and the wash of oars as the boat shot off into the dark. Mr. Pengelly sent me a low whistle and I crept forth. "Hear what they said?" he asked. "They--they didn't give much trouble." "Depends what you call trouble." He seemed slightly hurt in his feelings, and added, with asperity and obvious truth, "Carry it off how you will, a honeymoon's a honeymoon, and a man doesn't expect to be interrupted with questions about a sweep's apprentice." "Stand by!" cautioned the voice aft, low and firm as before. "By the sound of it they've stopped rowing." "If they come on us again, we're done for. That Tucker's a fool, but I noticed one or two of the men muttering together." "Sounds as if they were putting about. Can the boy swim?" asked Mrs. Pengelly anxiously. "I'll bet he can't." "But I can," said I. "If you'll put the helm down, ma'am, and hold in, I think she'll almost fetch Penlee Point. I don't want to get you into trouble." We all listened. And sure enough the sound of oars was approaching again out of the darkness.