mpt
to burn the goods in the cellar. And angry men they were when they saw
so many webs of fine cloth, so many bolts of Flanders lace, so many kegs
of rare brandy damaged and as good as lost. But when they understood
that, but for my address and quickness, all would have been lost to
them, they made me many compliments. Also an old man with a
silver-hilted sword, who carried himself like some great gentleman, bade
me tell him my _name_, and wrote it down in his note-book, saying that I
was of too good a head and quick a hand to waste on a dominie.

And, indeed, I was of that mind (or something very much like it) myself.
An old haunted house like Marnhoul to defend, a young maid of high
family to rescue (and adopt you as her brother for a reward) did somehow
take the edge off teaching the Rule of Three and explaining the _De
Bello Gallico_ to imps who cannot understand, and would not if they
could.

PART II

CHAPTER XV

MY GRANDMOTHER SPEAKS HER MIND

"There is no use talking" (said my grandmother, as she always did when
she was going to do a great deal of it), "no, listen to me, there is no
use talking! These two young things need a home, and if _we_ don't give
it to them, who will? Stay longer in that great gaol of a house, worse
than any barn, they shall not--exposed day and night to a traffic of sea
rascals, thieves and murderers, _they shall not_----"

"What I want to know is who is to keep them, and what the safer they
will be here?"

It was the voice of my Aunt Jen which interrupted. None else would have
dared--save mayhap my grandfather, who, however, only smiled and was
silent.

"Ne'er you mind that, Janet," cried her mother, "what goes out of our
basket and store will never be missed. And father says the same, be sure
of that!"

My grandfather did say the same, if to smile quietly and approvingly is
to speak. At any rate, in a matter which did not concern him deeply, he
knew a wiser way than to contradict Mistress Mary Lyon. She was quite
capable of keeping him awake two-thirds of the night arguing it out,
without the faintest hope of altering the final result.

"The poor things," mourned my grandmother, "they shall come here and
welcome--that is, till better be. Of course, they might be more grandly
lodged by the rich and the great--gentlefolk in their own station. But,
first of all, they do not offer, and if they did, they are mostly
without experience. To bring up children, trust an old