like to
borry your horse an' trap to use against 'en without lettin' 'ee know the
whole truth."

"I wish," says Bessie, "you wouldn' keep castin' it in my teeth--or what
does dooty for 'em--that the man's my nephew. You'll see how much of a
nephew he is if you can prove what you charge against 'en. But family is
family until proved otherwise; and so, Mr. Tummels, you shall harness up
the horse and bring him around, and I'll go with you to St. Ives to get to
the bottom o' this. On the way you shall tell me what you do know."

She was a well-plucked woman for seventy-five, was Bessie Bussow; and had
a head on her shoulders too. While Tummels was harnessing, she fit and
boiled a dish o' tea to fortify herself, and after drinking it nipped into
the cart as spry as a two-year-old. Off they drove, and came within sight
of Stack's Folly just about the time when Phoby Geen was bringing the
_Fly_ into St. Ives harbour.

They pulled up at the farmhouse under the hill, and out came William Sleep
to welcome them. He listened to their errand and stood for a minute
considering.

"There's only one thing to be done," he announced; "and that is to fetch
up Dr. Martyn. We're workin' that young man hard," said he; "for he only
left the patient a couple of hours ago." He invited Bessie to step inside
and make herself at home; and while Tummels stalled the horse, he posted
down in search of the doctor.

About an hour later the two came walking back together, William Sleep with
news that the _Fly_ was lying alongside St. Ives Quay. He had seen
nothing of Phoby Geen, and hadn't risked inquiring. The young doctor,
though grey in the cheeks and worn with nursing, rang cheerful as a bell.

"If you'd told me this a month ago," said he, "I might have pulled a long
face about it; but now the man's strong enough to bear moving. You, Mr.
Sleep, must lend me a suit of clothes, with that old wideawake of yours.
There's not the fellow to it in this parish. After that, all you can do
at present is to keep watch here while I get Dan'l down to the sea.
You, Mr. Tummels, by hook or crook, must beg, borrow, or steal a boat in
St. Ives, and one that will keep the sea for three or four days at a
push."

"If the fellow comes sneaking round the Folly here, William Sleep and I
can knock him on the head and tie him up. And then what's to prevent my
making use of the _Fly_ hersel'?"

"That's not a bad notion, though we'll avoid violence if w