ey Marsh,' said Tom Shoesmith. 'I've
heard say the world's divided like into Europe, Ashy, Afriky, Ameriky,
Australy, an' Romney Marsh.'

'The Marsh folk think so,' said Hobden. 'I had a hem o' trouble to get
my woman to leave it.'

'Where did she come out of? I've forgot, Ralph.'

'Dymchurch under the Wall,' Hobden answered, a potato in his hand.

'Then she'd be a Pett--or a Whitgift, would she?'

'Whitgift.' Hobden broke open the potato and ate it with the curious
neatness of men who make most of their meals in the blowy open. 'She
growed to be quite reasonable-like after livin' in the Weald awhile, but
our first twenty year or two she was odd-fashioned, no bounds. And she
was a won'erful hand with bees.' He cut away a little piece of potato
and threw it out to the door.

'Ah! I've heard say the Whitgifts could see further through a millstone
than most,' said Shoesmith. 'Did she, now?'

'She was honest-innocent of any nigromancin',' said Hobden. 'Only she'd
read signs and sinnifications out o' birds flyin', stars fallin', bees
hivin', and such. An, she'd lie awake--listenin' for calls, she said.'

'That don't prove naught,' said Tom. 'All Marsh folk has been smugglers
since time everlastin'. 'Twould be in her blood to listen out o'
nights.'

'Nature-ally,' old Hobden replied, smiling. 'I mind when there was
smugglin' a sight nearer us than what the Marsh be. But that wasn't my
woman's trouble. 'Twas a passel o' no-sense talk'--he dropped his
voice--'about Pharisees.'

'Yes. I've heard Marsh men belieft in 'em.' Tom looked straight at the
wide-eyed children beside Bess.

'Pharisees,' cried Una. 'Fairies? Oh, I see!'

'People o' the Hills,' said the Bee Boy, throwing half of his potato
towards the door.

'There you be!' said Hobden, pointing at him. My boy--he has her eyes
and her out-gate sense. That's what _she_ called 'em!'

'And what did you think of it all?'

'Um--um,' Hobden rumbled. 'A man that uses fields an' shaws after dark
as much as I've done, he don't go out of his road excep' for keepers.'

'But settin' that aside?' said Tom, coaxingly. 'I saw ye throw the Good
Piece out-at-doors just now. Do ye believe or--_do_ ye?'

'There was a great black eye to that tater,' said Hobden indignantly.

'My liddle eye didn't see un, then. It looked as if you meant it
for--for Any One that might need it. But settin' that aside, d'ye
believe or--_do_ ye?'

'I ain't sayin' nothin', because I've heard