"That'll put some life into you, my dear; it's milk, and brandy too. Now eat that. It's only bread and hake, but it was all I could manage now. To-morrow I'll bring you something better, or I'll know the reason why." Grilled fish still warm, and pleasant home-made bread. It was a feast to the starving man; and he sat there with a couple of blankets sending warmth into his chilled limbs, while the old fish-woman sat and talked after she had placed the lantern upon the sand. "Let them go on thinking so," said Harry at last. "Better that I should be dead to every one I know." "Now, Master Harry, don't you talk like that. You don't know what may happen next. You're talking in the dark now. When you wake up in the sunshine to-morrow morning you'll think quite different to this." "No," he said, "I must go right away; but I shall stay in hiding here for a few days first. Will you bring me a little food from time to times unknown to any one?" "Why of course I will, dear lad. But why don't you put on your pea-jacket and weskit. They is dry now." Harry shuddered as he glanced at the rough garments the woman was turning over. "Throw them here on the dry sand," he said hastily. "I don't want them now." "There you are then, dear lad," said the old woman, spreading out the drowned man's clothes; "p'r'aps they are a bit damp yet. And now I must go. There's what's left in the bottle, and there's a fried mack'rel and the rest of the loaf. That'll keep you from starving, and to-morrow night I'll see if I can't bring you something better." "And you'll be true to me?" "Don't you be afraid of that," said the old woman quietly, as Harry clasped her arm. "Why, you are quite wet," he said. "Wet! Well, if you'll tell me how to get in there with the tide pretty high and not be wet I should like to know it. Why, I had hard work to keep the basket out of the water, and one corner did go in." "And you'll have to wade out," said Harry thoughtfully. "Well, what of that? How many times have I done the same to get alongside of a lugger after fish? Drop o' salt water won't hurt me, Master Harry; I'm too well tanned for that." "I seem to cause trouble and pain to all I know," he said mournfully. "What's a drop o' water?" said the old woman with a laugh. "Here, you keep that lantern up in the corner, so as nobody sees the light. There's another candle there, and a box o' matches: and now I'm going. Good-bye, dear lad." "Good-bye," he said; with a shudder; "I trust you, mind." "Trust me! Why, of course you do. Good night." "One moment," said Harry. "What is the time?" "Lor', how particular people are about the time when they've got naught to do. Getting on for twelve, I should say. There, good night. Don't you come and get wet, too."