n his handkerchief, picked up the
lighter of his two spades--for some months he had eschewed the
heavier--and took his way through the streets, up the cliff-track by
the warren, and so past the coastguard watch-house.

The sun had dropped behind the hill, leaving the West one haze of
gold: but southward and seaward this gold grew fainter and fainter,
paling into an afterglow of the most delicate blue-amber. In the
scarce-canny light, as he rounded the corner of the cliff, he
perceived two small figures standing above the hollow which ran down
funnel-wise containing his patch, and recognised them.

"Drat them children!" he muttered; but kept on his way, and, drawing
near, demanded to know what business brought them so far from home at
such an hour.

"I might ask you the same question," retorted 'Beida. "Funny time,--
isn't it?--to start diggin' potatoes? An' before now I've always
notice you use a visgy for the job. Yet you can't be _plantin_--not
at this season--"

"I find the light spade handier to carry," explained Nicky-Nan in
some haste. "But you haven't answered my question."

"Well, if you _must_ know, I'm kissin' goodnight to 'Bert here.
They've started him upon coast-watchin', and he's given this beat
till ten-thirty, from the watch-house half-way to the Cove.
I shouldn' wonder if he broke his neck."

"No fear," put in 'Bert, proudly exhibiting and flashing a cheap
electric torch. "They gave me this at St Martin's--and in less than
an hour the moon'll be up."

"But the paper says there be so many spies about--eh, Mr Nanjivell?"

"Damme," groaned Nicky-Nan, "I should think there were! Well, if
there's military work afoot, at this rate, I'd better clear.
--Unless 'Bert would like me to stay here an' chat with 'en for
company."

"We ben't allowed to talk--not when on duty," declared young 'Bert
stoutly.

"Then kiss your brother, Missy, an' we'll trundle-ways home."

CHAPTER XIII.

FIRST AID.

"I hope, Mary-Martha," said Miss Oliver, pausing half-way up the hill
and panting, "that, whatever happens, you will take a proper stand."

"You are short of breath. You should take more exercise." Mrs
Polsue eyed her severely. "When an unmarried woman gets to your time
of life, she's apt to think that everything can be got over with
Fruit Salts and an occasional dose of Somebody's Emulsion.
Whereas it can't. I take a mile walk up the valley and back every
day of my life."

"I don't belie