“Black Tom's saying there's not a doubt of it,” said a woman. “Gone with the young Ballawhaine, eh?” said a man. “Shame on her, the hussy,” said another woman. Pete ploughed his way through with both arms, smiling and nodding furiously. “If you, plaze, ma'am I If _you_ plaze.” As he pushed on he heard voices behind him. “Poor man, he doesn't know yet.”--“I'm taking pity to look at him.” The house-door was open. On the threshold stood a young man with long hair and a long note-book. He was putting questions. “Last seen at seven o'clock--left alone with child--husband out with procession--any other information?” Nancy Joe, with the child on her lap, was answering querulously from the stool before the fire, and Cæsar, face down, was leaning on the mantelpiece. Pete took in the situation at a glance. Then he laid his big hand on the young man's shoulder and swung him aside as if he had been turning a swivel. “What going doing?” he asked. The young man faltered something. Sorry to intrude--Capt'n Quilliam's trouble. “What trouble?” said Pete. “Need I say--the lamented--I mean distressing--in fact, the mysterious disappearance----” “What disappearance?” said Pete, with an air of amazement. “Can it be, sir, that you've not yet heard----” “Heard what? Your tongue's like a turnip-watch in a fob pocket--out with it, man.” “Your wife, Captain----” “What? My wife disa---- What? So this is the jeel! My wife mysteriously disappear---- Oh, my gough!” Pete burst into a peal of laughter. He shouted, roared, held his sides, doubled, rocked up and down, and at length flung himself into a chair, threw back his head, heaved out his legs, and shook till the house itself seemed to quake. “Well, that's good! that's rich! that bates all!” he cried. The child awoke on Nancy's knee and sent its thin pipe through Pete's terrific bass. Cæsar opened his mouth and gaped, and the young man, now white and afraid, scraped and backed himself to the door, saying-- “Then perhaps it's not true, after all, Capt'n?” “Of coorse it's not true,” said Pete. “Maybe you know where she's gone.” “Of course I know where's she's gone. I sent her there myself!” “You did, though?” said Cæsar. “Yes, did I--to England by the night sailing.” “'Deed, man!” said Cæsar. “The doctor ordered it. You heard him yourself, grandfather.” “Well, that's true, too,” said Cæsar. The young man closed his long note-book and backed into a throng of women who had come up to the porch. “Of course, if you say so, Capt'n Quilliam----” “I do say so,” shouted Pete; and the reporter disappeared. The voices of two women came from the gulf of white faces wherein the reporter had been swallowed up. “I'm right glad it's lies they've been telling of her, Capt'n,” said the first. “Of coorse you are, Mistress Kinnish,” shouted Pete. “I could never have believed the like of the same woman, and I always knew the child was brought up by hand,” said the other.