"And what do you offer?" I asked. "I'll take 'ee on, tha's what I'll do. I'll taich 'ee a vew things. I'll make a man ov 'ee, Jasper. You are a vine big man, sonny, a match for two ord'nary men, with schullership, an' a knowledge of figgers thrawed in. You'd zoon be my 'ead man, an' do a big traade." "If smuggling were all," I stammered. "Tha's oal I ask ov 'ee, Jasper. A bit ov smugglin'. But spoase you doan't. Well, look at that now. Spoase you doan't now. Nick Tresidder 'll git that maid es sure as eggs--while you--" "I shall be murdered, I suppose." "Jasper, I never like violence on a eldest son. It do main bad luck, my deear, es a rule; still we've got to go 'ginst bad luck, sometimes. But for the fact of your bein' the third of the family of the same naame--" "More than the third," I interrupted. "More than the third ef you like, my deear, but you be the third, an' oal the world do knaw it's a bad thing to kill a man who's the third of the same naame. But for that I mightn't 'ave come in time. You zee, Jasper, I'm a religious man, do send a present to the passon every year for tithes, I do." At that time I did not believe in Cap'n Jack's words, but afterward I found that all his gang were afraid to do that which was considered unlucky. All Cornish people, I suppose, have heard the rhyme about killing an eldest son who is the third in succession to bear the same christened name. I know, too, that Cap'n Jack believed implicitly in the legend, and I have heard him repeat it very solemnly, as though he were repeating a prayer at a funeral, while his gang became as solemn as judges. And I have little doubt now that the jargon which I will write down--for I who have had a fair lot of schooling do call it jargon--had a great deal to do with saving me from Sam Liddicoat's knife. "For if a man shall strike him dead, His blood shall be on the striker's head, And while ever he draws his breath, His days shall be a fearful death; And after death to hell he'll go, With pain and everlasting woe." "An' so, you zee," said Cap'n Jack, "I do'ant want no violence weth 'ee, being a merciful and religious man." Now I must confess that I was in sore straits what to do; for be it remembered all my plans seemed poor and almost worthless, and at the same time I loathed the thought of accepting Cap'n Jack's offer. Had I been sure I should have to do nothing but help in the smuggling I would not have minded so much, for it is well known that smuggling is not regarded by many as wrong, even the parsons at St. Mawes, and Tresillian, and Mopus having bought smuggled goods. Besides, I knew that many had gained wealth in this way, and were thought none the worse of for doing it. But Cap'n Jack was known to be worse than a smuggler, and almost desperate as I was this hindered me. For I remembered that in spite of everything I was still a Pennington, and I thought of what Naomi Penryn would think of me.