in my punt; so I have come to lie with my gun on the Burnt Hill awhile till the fog clears, as it will in an hour, when I shall return."
"Were you here yesterday night?"
"No, I was not; I was up Tottcsbury creek and got a dozen pair of wild duck. Will you have some? I have a pair or two in the punt."
"I have refused them before, and I refuse them again."
"Why do you ask me if I were here yesternight?"
"Because then two sheep were taken. Were you here the night before?"
"No, I was then on Abbots' Hall marshes. Do you suspect me still of sheep-stealing?" he asked scoffingly.
"I do not, but I thought had you been here you might have seen some signs of the villains who have robbed us."
"Come here, Glory! out of the fog on to the Burnt Hill."
"I am going home."
"You are not, till I have said what I have to say. Come out of the ague damps."
"I am going home, now."
He held her by both wrists. She was strong, but her strength was nothing to his. She made no great effort to get away. If he chose to speak to her, she would listen to him. If she struggled in his grasp, it would make him think she feared him. She would not allow him to suppose himself of such importance to her. If he insulted her, she had her pistol, and she would not scruple to defend herself.
He drew her to the top of the mount; there they were clear of the mist, which lay like snow below and round them, covering the morass and the water. The clear cut crescent moon hung over a clump of pines on Mersea. Rebow looked at it, then waved an arm in the direction.
"Do you see Grim's Hoe yonder?—That great barrow with the Scotch pines on top? Do you know how it comes there? Have you heard the tale?"
Mehalah was silent.
"I will tell you, for I often think of it, and so will you when you have been told the tale. In the old times when the Danes came here, they wintered on Mersea Isle, and in the summer they cruised all along the coast, burning
