leep the night in this moloncholy place?"

"Certainly."

"Very well, sir. Please yoursel', as Dick said to the press-gang.
An' what be I to do fust?"

Mr. Fogo perhaps did not hear the question, for he was gazing out at
the falling shadows: when he spoke again it was upon another subject.

"It is right that you should know," said he, "the kind of life you
will be wanted to lead. In the first place, I am extraordinarily
subject to fits of abstraction--absence of mind, in other words.
It is an affection to which my style of life has made me particularly
prone: it has led me before now into absurd, and sometimes into
dangerous situations.

"I _have_ heard tell," said Caleb, "of an old gentl'm'n as carefully
tucked hes umbrella in bed an' put hissel' in the corner. Es that
the style o' thing, sir?"

"It is something similar," said his master, "and within certain
limits I should expect you to look after me and as far as possible
prevent such accidents: however, I shall not, of course, expect you
to have more than one pair of eyes. My tastes are simple--I read a
little, sketch a little, botanise, dabble in chemistry, am fond of
carpentering--boat-building especially. My very absence of mind
makes me indifferent to surroundings. In short, I am a mild man."

Mr. Fogo got off his barrel, went to the window, sighed softly, and
returned. Something in his manner imposed silence on Caleb.

"We shall live here alone," he resumed. "It is even possible that,
to ensure solitude, I shall rent the cottage as well, and install you
there. Above all things, remember," with sudden sternness, "that no
woman is to come near this house--I shall even expect you to do your
utmost to prevent their landing on the quay below. That, I think, is
all. I now wish you to row down to the station and get my
portmanteau. After that, with this money procure a couple of
hammocks, besides provisions and whatever will be necessary for the
night, not forgetting soap and candles. To-morrow we will take in
further stock."

Caleb was about to make some answer when the garden gate creaked
heavily, and Peter Dearlove appeared in the dusk outside the window;
so he merely took the money, touched his forelock by way of
acknowledging his new employment, and retired. But it was noticeable
that once or twice on his way to the boat he had to pull himself up
and think a bit. Arrived on the quay, too, he stood for a moment or
so beside the boat in pr