The Master of the Ceremonies

there?"

  "Chucked in, I s'pose," growled the fisherman. "How should I know?"

  "Stop!" cried Morton suddenly. "Let me think--my head is all confused,Mr Barclay--so much trouble lately, but I seem to recollect--yes. DickMiggles, you know; some one--that night we were fishing down among thepiles under the pier."

  "Yes, I recklect oftens fishing along o' you there, Master Mort'n."

  "Yes, but one night--when I stole down, soon after that terriblebusiness. Why, you recollect, Mr Linnell. You caught me."

  "Yes, of course. I recollect," said Linnell eagerly.

  "Dick Miggles and I were fishing that night under the pier, and a mancame and threw something in."

  Claire turned ghastly pale, and Linnell stretched out his hand to catchher, but she waved him off and stood firm.

  "You recollect, Dick?"

  "No," said the fisherman sulkily. "I don't recklect."

  Claire uttered a low moan. It was horrible, and she suffered amartyrdom as she stood there, helpless now to speak or resist, onlyable, with her hearing terribly acute, to listen to her brother draggingout from this man perhaps some fresh token of her father's guilt.

  "You do recollect," cried Morton fiercely. "You got up and lookedbetween the planks, and you said he had thrown something into the sea."

  "Oh--ah--yes--I recollect now: some one come and threw a stone in."

  "Some one would not come down to the end of the pier to throw in astone," said Barclay drily.

  "No," said Morton; "and Dick looked up and watched and saw who it was.He pretended he couldn't see--"

  Claire's heart sank lower and lower. It was too horrible.

  "But I'm sure he could."

  "No, Master Mort'n, I couldn't see."

  "I noticed your manner then, Dick. I'm sure you did see, and that's whyyou did not speak."

  "What's why?" growled Dick, assuming a vacant air.

  "You knew who it was, and that something was thrown in that you meant todredge for, and you did and found those jewels."

  Fisherman Dick was posed, and he rubbed his boots together; but helooked more vacant than ever.

  "You don't want to be taken to prison and made to speak, Dick?"

  "No!" shouted Mrs Miggles, "and he shan't go."

  "Then speak out, Dick," cried Morton; but the rough fisherman onlyfrowned and tightened his lips.

  "No; I don't 'member," he said, shaking his head.

  "You do; and you saw who it was. Speak."

  "Morton!" gasped Claire, staggering to him, and throwing herself on hisbreast. "I cannot bear it. For God's sake, stop!"

  "No," cried the lad; "for my father's sake I'll have the truth. You,Dick Miggles, I order you to speak."

  For the first time in his life, as Morton Denville stood there erect andstern, he looked a man.

  "Can't," said Dick Miggles. "Don't know."

  "You do, you coward!" cried Morton. "You will not speak for fear ofgetting into trouble. Look at the trouble we are in, and you mightclear us."

  "Morton, dear Morton!" moaned Claire, with horror-stricken face.

  "Silence, sister!" cried Morton, throwing her off. "He shall speak: ifit was my own father who threw those things into the sea that night.But it was not. It was some man with a heavy tread; and he stopped anddid what my father never did in his life. He was smoking as he stoodabove our heads, and he got a light and lit a fresh cigar."

  "Oh!"

  It was a low, piteous wail, full of relief from Claire. It could nothave been her father, then, and she leaned helpless on Barclay's arm.

  Morton tried to help his sister, but she smiled at him sadly as sheendeavoured to rise, and he turned to Fisherman Dick.

  "Come, Dick," he said, "we used to be good friends and fishermentogether."

  "Ay, lad, ay, so we did," said the rough fellow, with a smile.

  "Then will you not help me now I am in such trouble?"

  "Ay, lad, I'd like to; but I don't see how I can."

  "Dick Miggles, you're a coward," cried Morton. "When I was a boy--"

  "Nay, nay, Master Mort'n, take that back again. No coward."

  "Yes: a coward," cried Morton angrily. "When I was a lad, how manytimes did I know about cargoes being run, and your house being crammedwith spirits and tobacco and lace and silk?"

  "How many times, my lad?"

  "Yes, how many times? Wasn't I always true to you as a mate I fishedwith?"

  "Yes; that you was, Master Mort'n: that you was."

  "And now you see my poor old father condemned for a crime he did notcommit, and that must have been done by the wretch who threw thosejewels into the water. You know who did it. You saw him that night,and you will not speak."

  "Dursn't, my lad, dursn't," growled Miggles.

  "You did see him, then?"

  Dick Miggles looked in all directions to avoid his questioner's eye, butin vain: Morton went up close to him, and took him by the thick bluewoollen jersey he wore, and held him.

  "You did see him?"

  "Well, all right, then; all right, then, Master Mort'n. I did see him,"growled Miggles, "but I won't say another word."

  "You shall, if I tear it out of you," cried Morton. "Now then: who wasit?"

  "Dunno!" growled Miggles.

  "You do know, sir. Speak out."

  "I can't, Master Mort'n, sir. I dursn't. It would get me into no endof trouble," said Miggles desperately. "I can't tell ye. I won't,there!"

  He threw Morton off and folded his arms upon his breast, looking at alldefiantly.

  "I suppose you know, my man," said Barclay sternly, "that you will besummoned as a witness before the judge, and forced to speak?"

  "No judge won't make me speak unless I like," said Miggles defiantly."I tell you all I won't say another word and get myself into trouble, sothere!"

  Just then Claire took a step or two forward, laid her hands upon DickMiggles' broad breast, and looked up in his great bronzed, bearded face.

  The fisherman winced, and his wife hugged the child to her, and uttereda low sob.

  "My poor dear father is lying in prison under sentence of death--my poorgrey-haired old father," she said softly. "Perhaps a word from you willsave his life--will save mine, for--for my heart is breaking. I couldnot live if--if--I cannot say it," she sobbed in a choking voice, as shesank upon her knees and raised her clasped hands to the great fellow."Pray, pray, speak."

  Fisherman Dick's face worked; he stared round him and out to sea; andthen, with a low, hoarse sob, he roared out:

  "Don't, Miss Claire, don't; I can't abear it. I will speak. It wasthat big orficer as fought the dool with Mr Linnell here."

  "Rockley!" cried Morton wildly.

  "Ay! Him. Master Mort'n. I see him plain."

  No one spoke, but Linnell involuntarily took off his hat, and Barclaydid the same, while Morton stood for a few moments looking down at therapt countenance of his sister, as with eyes closed and face upturned toheaven she knelt there, apparently unconscious of the presence ofothers, her lips moving and slowly repeating the thanksgiving flowingmutely from her heart.

  No one moved as they stood there in the broad sunshine at the edge ofthe chalk cliff, with the clear blue sky above their heads, the greendown behind, and the far-spreading glistening sea at their feet. ThenMorton Denville softly bent his knee by his sister's side, and toRichard Linnell the silence seemed that of some grand cathedral where aprayer of thanksgiving was being offered up to God.

  "And may I be forgiven, too," he muttered, as he looked down on thatworn upturned face with the blue veins netting the temples, and theclosed eyes, "forgiven all my cruel doubts--all my weak suspicions ofyou, my darling! for I love you with all my heart."

  Claire rose slowly from her knees, taking her brother's hand, and aslight flush came into her cheeks as she saw the reverent attitude ofall around.

  She looked her thanks, and then turned to Miggles, catching his broadrough hand in both of hers, and kissing it aga
in and again.

  "May God bless you!" she whispered. "You have saved my father's life."

  She let fall the hand, which Miggles raised and thrust in his breast, ina strange, bashful way. Then, turning quickly to Morton, she took hisarm and looked at Barclay.

  "Mr Barclay, will you do what is necessary at once? My brother and Iare going