the guns still in store, without letting anybody
guess my motive. I have picked up a very sharp fellow here, whose heart
is in the business thoroughly; for one of the prisoners is his twin
brother, and he lost his poor sweetheart through Cadman's villainy--a
young lass who used to pick mussels, or something. He will see that the
rogue does not give us the slip, and I have looked out for that in other
ways as well. I am greatly afraid of tiring you, my dear madam; but have
you any other thing to tell me of this Cadman?"

"No, Mr. Mordacks, except a whole quantity of little things that tell a
great deal to me, but to anybody else would have no sense. For instance,
of his looks, and turns, and habits, and tricks of seeming neither the
one thing nor the other, and jumping all the morning, when the last man
was hanged--"

"Did he do that, madam? Are you quite sure?"

"I had it on the authority of his own wife. He beats her, but still she
can not understand him. You may remember that the man to be suspended
was brought to the place where--where--"

"Where he earned his doom. It is quite right. Things of that sort should
be done upon a far more liberal scale. Example is better than a thousand
precepts. Let us be thankful that we live in such a country. I have
brought some medicine for brave Tommy from our Dr. Stirbacks. Be sure
that you stroke his throat when he takes it. Boys are such rogues--"

"Well, Mr. Mordacks, I really hope that I know how to make my little boy
take medicine!"

CHAPTER XLVIII

SHORT SIGHS, AND LONG ONES

Now it came to pass that for several months this neighborhood, which
had begun to regard Mr. Mordacks as its tutelary genius--so great is the
power of bold energy--lost him altogether; and with brief lamentation
began to do very well without him. So fugitive is vivacious stir, and
so well content is the general world to jog along in its old ruts. The
Flamborough butcher once more subsided into a piscitarian; the postman,
who had been driven off his legs, had time to nurse his grain again;
Widow Tapsy relapsed into the very worst of taps, having none to
demand good beverage; and a new rat, sevenfold worse than the mighty
net-devourer (whom Mordacks slew; but the chronicle has been cut out,
for the sake of brevity), took possession of his galleries, and made
them pay. All Flamborough yearned for the "gentleman as did things,"
itself being rather of the contemplative vein, which flows from