The agent laughed and left him to stroll back again to the window, where he stood looking down into the full street. "Perhaps we’re neither of us as clear in our minds as we might be!" he observed, with a cryptic smile. "The weather, perhaps; it’s only a dreary day. I’m not one of the folks who like November grey." "Tides is big an’ all," Simon found himself saying, unable to resist the lure. "We’ve had t’watter up agen t’wall every night this week. Last night I went out for a look afore it was dark, but it was that thick it was all I could do to tell it was there at all. There was just summat grey-like lifting under my nose; but, by Gox! it was deep enough for all it was so whyet!" Dent shivered at the drear little picture which the other had conjured up. "I don’t know how you sleep," he said, "perched on the edge of things like that! It would give me fits to have the sea knocking twice a day at my back door." "Ay, it knocks," Simon said slowly, with a thoughtful air. "There’s whiles you’d fair think it was axing for somebody to come out.... You’ll mind yon time you were near catched by the tide?" he went on, after a pause. "Eh, man, but I was in a terble tew yon night!" "It was my own fault," Dent laughed,--"not that it was any the nicer for that! I knew the time of the tide, but I’d forgotten the time of day. It was a day something like this, much the same dismal colour all through. Lord, no!" He shivered again. "I’ve not forgotten, not I! I’ll never forget pounding away from that horrible wave, and finding myself, quite without knowing it, back below the farm!" "It was my missis saved you that night," Simon said, "and a near shave it was an’ all! Tide would ha’ got you even then if it hadn’t been for her. We heard you hollerin’ and came out to look, but we couldn’t see nowt, it was that dark. I thought we’d fancied it like, as we didn’t hear no more, but Sarah wouldn’t hear of owt o’ the sort. She would have it she could see you liggin’ at bottom o’ t’bank, and she give me no peace till I’d crammelled down to look." "Well, you may be sure I’m grateful enough," the agent said, as they shook hands. "I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy a death like that. I hope it’s been put to the credit side of her account." He followed this caller out as he had done the last, and again, leaning over the railing, he called "Good luck!" Simon, looking up, full of resentment, saw the face above him bright with smiles. He went out with offended dignity written in every line. PART II ELIZA I