out, you know."

"I don't want to go."

"But look here, Lavender," said the younger man, seizing hold of
Lavender's boat and causing the easel to shake dangerously: "he asked
me to luncheon, too."

"Why don't you go, then?" was the only reply, uttered rather absently.

"I can't go without you."

"Well, I don't mean to go."

The younger man looked vexed for a moment, and then said in a tone of
expostulation, "You know it is very absurd of you going on like this,
Lavender. No fellow can paint decently if he gets out of bed in the
middle of the night and waits for daylight to rush up to his easel.
How many hours have you been at work already to-day? If you don't give
your eyes a rest, they will get color-blind to a dead certainty. Do
you think you will paint the whole place off the face of the earth,
now that the other fellows have gone?"

"I can't be bothered talking to you. Johnny. You'll make me throw
something at you. Go away."

"I think it's rather mean, you know," continued the persistent Johnny,
"for a" fellow like you, who doesn't need it, to come and fill the
market all at once, while we unfortunate devils can scarcely get a
crust. And there are two heron just round the point, and I have my
breech-loader and a dozen cartridges here."

"Go away, Johnny!" That was all the answer he got.

"I'll go out and tell Lord News, tead that you are a cantankerous
brute. I suppose he'll have the decency to offer me luncheon, and I
dare say I could get him a shot at these heron. You are a fool not to
come, Lavender;" and so saying the young man put out again, and he was
heard to go away talking to himself about obstinate idiots and greed
and the certainty of getting a shot at the heron.

When he had quite gone, Lavender, who had scarcely raised his eyes
from his work, suddenly put down his palette and brushes--he almost
dropped them, indeed--and quickly put up both his hands to his head,
pressing them on the side of his temples. The old fisherman in the
boat beyond noticed this strange movement, and forthwith caught
a rope, hauled the boat across a stretch of water, and then came
scrambling over bowsprit, lowered sails and nets to where Lavender had
just sat down.

"Wass there anything the matter, sir?" he said with much evidence of
concern.

"My head is a little bad, Donald," Lavender said, still pressing his
hands on his temples, as if to get rid of some strange feeling. "I
wish you would pull in to the shore