That chance word came. Mr. Penruddock gave a spiteful hit, being, as he said, of a cantankerous turn, to Mr. Treluddra, principal "jowder," _i.e._ fish salesman, of Aberalva. Whereon Treluddra, whose conscience told him that there was at present in his back-yard a cartload and more of fish in every stage of putrefaction, which he had kept rotting there rather than lower the market-price, rose in wrath. "An' if any committee puts its noz into my back-yard, if it doant get the biggest cod's innards as I can collar hold on, about its ears, my name is not Treluddra! A man's house is his castle, says I, and them as takes up with any o' this open-day burglary, for it's nothing less, has to do wi' me, that's all, and them as knows their interest, knows me!" Terrible were these words; for old Treluddra, like most jowders, combined the profession of money-lender with that of salesman; and there were dozens in the place who were in debt to him for money advanced to buy boats and nets, after wreck and loss. Besides, to offend one jowder was to offend all. They combined to buy the fish at any price they chose: if angered, they would combine now and then not to buy it at all. "You old twenty per cent rascal," roared the Lieutenant, "after making a fortune out of these poor fellows' mishaps, do you want to poison 'em all with your stinking fish?" "I say, Lieutenant," says old Beer, whose son owed Treluddra fifty pounds at that moment, "fair's fair. You mind your Coastguard, and we'm mind our trade. We'm free fishermen, by charter and right; you'm not our master, and you shall know it." "Know it?" says the Lieutenant, foaming. "Iss; you put your head inside my presences, and I'll split mun open, if I be hanged for it." "You split my head open?" "Iss, by--." And the old grey-bearded sea-king set his arms akimbo. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, for Heaven's sake!" cries poor Headley, "this is really going too far. Gentlemen, the vestry is adjourned!" "Best thing too! oughtn't never to have been called," says one and another. And some one, as he went out, muttered something about "interloping strange doctors, colloquies with popish curates," which was answered by a--"Put 'mun in the quay pule," from Treluddra. Tom stepped up to Treluddra instantly, "What were you so kind as to say, sir?" Treluddra turned very pale. "I didn't say nought." "Oh, but I assure you I heard; and I shall be most happy to jump into the quay pule this afternoon, if it will afford you the slightest amusement. Say the word, and I'll borrow a flute, and play you the Rogue's March all the while with my right hand, swimming with my left. Now, gentlemen, one word before we part!" "Who be you?" cries some one. "A man at least, and ought to have a fair hearing. Now, I ask you, what possible interest can I have in this matter? I knew when I began that I should give myself a frightful quantity of trouble, and get only what I have got." "Why did you begin at all, then?"