, why spoil _both_ his lives--at least they might leave
him alone here. But they ain't practical, these parsonic folk." He rose,
and took a white, broken-lipped jug from a shelf, and drank a deep
draught. "Water," he murmured. "See? Water, air, sunshine, all here for
me, in common with the parson. P'r'aps I shall lack water in limbo, but
so, too, may the parson--anyway he and I are on the same footing here;
therefore, why should he torment me by stirring up my conscience? He has
a bad time here and--we'll grant this for the sake of argument--a good
time afterwards. Now, I've _got_ to have a bad time with old Safety
Matches down below. Why, then, should the parson want to spoil my time
here? It looks mean anyway. If I were a parson, I'd make sure I had a
good time in _this_ world, and chance the rest. Sometimes I'm almost
persuaded to be converted, and take the boss position in a bethel, all
amongst the tea and wimmen-folk. Lor', wouldn't I preach, wouldn't I
just ladle it out, and wouldn't the dears adore me?"

Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the door. Instantly the spurious
seals and the fraudulent matrix were swept into the drawer above the
apron of the bench, and Benjamin Tresco rose, benignant, to receive his
visitors.

He opened the door, and there entered the red-headed sailor, who was
closely followed by Rock Cod and Macaroni.

Tresco drew himself up with dignity.

"This is quite unexpected," he said. "The honour is great. Who do I see
here but Fish-ho and his amiable mate? It is sad, gentlemen, but I'm off
flounders since the Chinaman, who died aboard the barque, was buried in
the bay. It is a great misfortune for Fish-ho to have dead Chinamen
buried on his fishing-grounds, but such is the undoubted fact."

"You need have no fear on that score, mister," said the red-headed
sailor. "They've not come to sell fish. Speak up, Macaroni."

"We come to tella you we come from Mr. Crookendena. We come to you
accepta ze service of Rocka Codda and Macaroni."

For one brief moment Tresco looked perplexed. Then his face assumed its
usual complacence. "Are you in the know, too?" he asked of the seaman.

"All I know is that I was told to pilot these two men to your shop. That
done, I say good-day."

"And the same to you," said Tresco. "Happy to have met you, sir, and I'm
sorry there's nothing to offer you in the jug but water."

"There's no bones broke anyway," replied the sailor as he edged towards
the door.