ty years, and I ain't called Morwenna. I'm Ann Betty Lutey, your
own lawful wife, and if you don't know me, you must be gone clean out of
your mind."

"Ann Betty Lutey," said the old man solemnly, "if you're my lawful wife
you've had a narrow escape this night of being left a widow woman, and you
may be thankful you've ever set eyes on me again."

"Come in and have some breakfast," said Ann Betty Lutey sternly, "and if
you ain't better then I'll send for the doctor. It's my belief your brain
is turned."

Lutey got up obediently and went in to his breakfast; indeed, he was glad
enough of it, for he was light-headed from want of food. His breakfast
did him good. Before he had finished it he was able to tell his wife
about his adventure the night before, and he told it so gravely and
sensibly that Ann Betty believed every word of it, and no longer thought
his brain was turned.

Indeed, she was so much impressed by his story that before many hours had
passed she had gone round to every house in the parish spreading the news,
and to prove the truth of it she produced the pearl comb.

Then, oh dear, the gossiping that went on! It really was dreadful!
The women neglected their homes, their children, and everything else for
the whole of that week; and for months after old Lutey was besieged by all
the sick and sorry for miles and miles around, who came to him to be
cured. He did such a big business in healing people, that not a doctor
for miles round could earn a living. Everyone went to old Lutey, and when
it was found that he had power over witchcraft, too, he became the most
important man in the whole country.

Lutey had been so rude and rough to the mermaiden when he parted from her,
that no one would have been surprised if she had avenged herself on him
somehow, and punished him severely. But no, she was true to all her
promises. He got all his wishes, and neither he nor his descendants have
ever come to want. Better far, though, would it have been for him had it
been otherwise, for he paid dearly enough for his wishes in the end.

Nine years from that very time, on a calm moonlight night, Lutey,
forgetting all about the mermaid and her threats, arranged to go out with
a friend to do a little fishing. There was not a breath of wind stirring,
and the sea was like glass, so that a sail was useless, and they had to
take to the oars. Suddenly, though, without any puff of wind, or anything
else to cause it, t