e outside; but the name is
painted off, because the little dears are in their graves. Two nicer
children were never seen, clever, and sprightly, and good to learn; they
never even took a common bird's nest, I have heard, but loved all the
little things the Lord has made, as if with a foreknowledge of going
early home to Him. Their father came back very tired one morning, and
went up the hill to his breakfast, and the children got into the boat
and pushed off, in imitation of their daddy. It came on to blow, as it
does down there, without a single whiff of warning; and when Robin awoke
for his middle-day meal, the bodies of his little ones were lying on the
table. And from that very day Captain Cockscroft and his wife began to
grow old very quickly. The boat was recovered without much damage; and
in it he sits by the hour on dry land, whenever there is no one on the
cliffs to see him, with his hands upon his lap, and his eyes upon the
place where his dear little children used to sit. Because he has always
taken whatever fell upon him gently; and of course that makes it ever so
much worse when he dwells upon the things that come inside of him."

"Madam, you make me feel quite sorry for him," the lieutenant exclaimed,
as she began to cry, "If even one of my little ones was drowned, I
declare to you, I can not tell what I should be like. And to lose them
all at once, and as his own wife perhaps would say, because he was
thinking of his breakfast! And when he had been robbed, and the world
all gone against him! Madam, it is a long time, thank God, since I heard
so sad a tale."

"Now you would not, captain, I am sure you would not," said Mistress
Anerley, getting up a smile, yet freshening his perception of a tear as
well--"you would never have the heart to destroy that poor old couple by
striking the last prop from under them. By the will of the Lord they are
broken down enough. They are quietly hobbling to their graves, and would
you be the man to come and knock them on their heads at once?"

"Mistress Anerley, have you ever heard that I am a brute and inhuman?
Madam, I have no less than seven children, and I hope to have fourteen."

"I hope with all my heart you may. And you will deserve them all, for
promising so very kindly not to shoot poor Robin Lyth."

"Robin Lyth! I never spoke of him, madam. He is outlawed, condemned,
with a fine reward upon him. We shot at him to-day; we shall shoot at
him again; and before ver