Take them, and be damned to your pride. I shot them for you."
"I will not have them, Elijah."
"Then I will not either," and he flung the dead birds into the water.
She seized the opportunity, and dipping her oars in the tide, strained at them, and shot away. She heard him curse, for his boat had grounded and he could not follow.
She laughed in reply.
In twenty minutes Mehalah ran her punt on Mersea beach. Here a little above high-water mark stood a cluster of wooden houses and an old inn, pretentiously called the "City," a hive of smugglers. On the shore, somewhat east, and away from the city, lay a dismasted vessel, fastened upright by chains, the keel sunk in the shingle. She had been carried to this point at spring flood and stranded, and was touched, not lifted by the ordinary tides. Mehalah's punt, drawing no draught, floated under the side of this vessel, and she caught the ladder by which access was obtained to the deck.
"Who is there?" asked George De Witt, looking over the side.
"I am come after you, George," answered Mehalah.
"Why, Glory! what is the matter?"
"There is something very serious the matter. You must come back with me at once to the Ray."
"Is your mother ill?"
"Worse than that."
"Dead?"
"No, no! nothing of that sort. She is all right. But I cannot explain the circumstances now. Come at once and with me."
"I will get the boat out directly."
"Never mind the boat. Come in the punt with me. You cannot return by water to-night. The ebb will prevent that. You will be obliged to go round by the Strood. Tell your mother not to expect you."
"But what is the matter, Glory?"
"I will tell you when we are afloat."
"I shall be back directly, but I do not know how the old woman will take it." He swung himself down into the
