We found Mr. Pilbrow dressed, and expecting me with some eagerness. He was quite spruce, so far as the contents of the little hand-bag, his sole baggage, it seemed, could make him. But he had been shaved and brushed, and his boots cleaned; and if his heavy green surtout was worn and smeared with a hundred stains, the character of it was redeemed by that of the little, alert, forcible face, which looked out of the frayed collar. “So,” he said, pleased, but stiffly, “here’s the lantern, and here’s Harry, I presume?” “How dee do, sir?” said my friend, grinning rather shy, but in his frank, attractive way. “I hope you’ll like Dunberry. We haven’t much in the way of local sights to recommend us; but what there is we’ll show you, if you’ll let us.” “I’m obliged to ye,” said Joshua. “My young friend here mentioned some ruins.” “Yes, there’s the ruins,” said Harry; “and--and--what else is there, Dick?” I had hoped, under the circumstances, we might have let the ruins alone. I did not care much to think of them, for my part. “O,” I said, airily, “there’s the wreck on the sands. It’s the only other thing I can call to mind.” “Mighty!” said Harry. “What a genius you are, Dicky! I’d never thought of that. Would you care to pull out and see a wreck, Mr. Pilbrow?” “Infinitely,” said the old man, handsomely. “And what wreck is it now?” We told him. “It’d be rather a lark,” said Harry. “Only we must time our visit to the tide. It’ll be low about to-morrow midday, if that’ll suit. If you’ll believe me, sir, we shall be the first to show any curiosity about the thing. There it’s sat for a week, and Dunberry not taken the trouble to pull five miles out to learn its name, even.” We must go now, if we wanted to hear the lecture; and so we lighted our lanterns and descended those private stairs which I had used on the morning first after our coming. I led, and as I issued forth, I lifted my lantern to show Joshua, who followed, the way. The light shone full upon his face, where it hung, like the gurgoyle of my memory, I could have thought, in the dark entry. And on the instant a little strained scream broke at my elbow, and something staggered back against the closed door of the tap which stood hard by. The latch burst; there was a snap and tinkle of glass, and the door flying open, let down a heavy sprawling body into the lighted bar beyond. A volley of oaths from the landlord sprung out with the glow, and some one was cursed for a crazy, drunken lout. Startled beyond measure, I hurried our guest on. “What was it?” he asked, unruffled. “Nothing,” I said, “but a boozy ruffian of our acquaintance.” But by-and-by I took an opportunity to pull Harry back and whisper in his ear-- “Did you see?” “Yes. Rampick.” “What was he doing there?” “What is he always doing there?” “Yes. But to give out that screech at the sight of us!” “It shows, anyhow, that he’s more frightened of us than we are of him.”