"You shall have three." "'Tis but just. All the same, it ban't a very young bird--rather old, in truth. An' I haven't drawn it, for their insides _be a bit wiry_ when they come to full growth." "So much the better for our teeth," said Burnham. "For that matter, we shall hev plenty of time to eat him," declared Knapps. "Well, lads, to-morrow night we'll pick his bones, and if Mrs. Lee can manage to get a bottle of brandy past our friend there----" The turnkey winked. "If 'tis for physic----" he said. "Certainly, certainly. Don't you wherrit about that. A jorum o' drink for the sick folk. Narry a one on us would displeasure you ter drink it ourselves, I'm sure," declared Leverett. "And a noggin hot--for you yourself," said Stark. Then he handed silver coins to Lovey Lee; and, feeling between them in her pocket as she slipped them down, the old woman knew that a half-sovereign had come also. From that moment she conducted her business with most unusual amiability. She jested with Burnham and Cecil Stark; she cleared her baskets, and in a fit of reckless generosity presented Leverett with a green apple, which remained when all else was sold. "Can't eat it," said the sailor. "My stomach have struck work; but this here nig will let it down, no doubt." "You'd do better to keep it for a love token," said the miser; but Mr. Cuffee had already taken the fruit. "Don't eat it; treasure it," she said. "Then you can tell your black maidens when you go home-along that you had a sweetheart in England who loved you so bad that her hair growed white for you." "I lub you too, ma'am. I lub anybody who gib me apples," said Sam. "You's de boofullest young ting I ebber see, and I dun fink about no udder gal no more. And I marry you when dey let me out ob dis dam bowray, I swar!" At the same moment Mr. Cuffee opened his huge mouth and the apple was gone. Mrs. Lee looked fixedly at him and laughed a curious laugh. "You clunk apples like a dog do swallow bones," she said. "There's the bell; an' I shan't come no more for a week belike, for I've got to get in my peat now, because winter will be knocking at the door again afore long. Then we must have heat about us, for once let the marrow freeze in your bones 'pon Dartymoor, an' you'm dead." She departed, and within the hour Mr. Cuffee made a careful search upon the goose. Two skeins of wire were concealed therein, and a scrap of paper, whose laconic message Stark presently deciphered. "_I'll trust you since I must. Fifty yards wire along with this. And in the apple I shall give to Leverett you'll find a map of the road. Have your letter ready for they Ashburton chaps next time I come._"