thing that Jason did not tell to Adam Fairbrother was
that, on hearing from Jacob, as spokesman of his brothers, the story
of their treatment of Greeba and their father, he had promised to
break every bone in their six worthless bodies, and vowed never to
darken their door again. His vow he could not keep if he was also to
keep his word with Adam, and he deferred the fulfilment of his
promise; but from that day he left Lague as a home, and pitched his
tent with old Davy Kerruish in Maughold village, at a little cottage
by the Sundial that stood by the gates of the church. Too old for the
sea, and now too saintly for smuggling, Davy pottered about the
churchyard as gravedigger--for Maughold had then no sexton--with a
living of three and sixpence a service, and a marvellously healthy
parish. So the coming of Jason to share bed and board with him was a
wild whirl of the wheel of fortune, and straightway he engaged an
ancient body at ninepence a week to cook and clean for them.

By this time Jason had spent nearly half his money, for he had earned
nothing, but now he promptly laid his idle habits aside. No more did
he go up to the mountains, and no longer out on to the sea. His nets
were thrown over the lath of the ceiling, his decoy was put in a
cage, his fowling piece stood in the corner, and few were the birds
that hung at his belt. He was never seen at the "Hibernian," and he
rarely scented up the house with tobacco smoke. On his first coming
he lay two days and nights in bed without food or sleep, until Davy
thought surely he was sick, and, willy-nilly, was for having his feet
bathed in mustard and hot water, and likewise his stomach in rum and
hot gruel. But he was only settling his plans for the future, and
having hit on a scheme he leaped out of bed like a grayhound, plunged
his head up to the neck in a bucket of cold water, came out of it
with gleaming eyes, red cheeks and a vapor rising from his wet skin,
and drying himself with a whir on a coarse towel, he laid hold with
both hands of a chunk of the last hare he had snared, and munched it
in vast mouthfuls.

"Davy," he cried, with the white teeth still going, "are there many
corn mills this side of the island?"

"Och, no, boy," said Davy; "but scarce as fresh herrings at
Christmas."

"Any mill nearer than old Moore's at Sulby, and Callow's wife's down
at Laxey?"

"Aw, no, boy, the like of them isn't in."

"Any call for them nearer, Davy?"

"Aw 'deed, y