twinkled as their owner wondered whether his victim could muster twenty-five pounds.

“I’m very sorry, of course,” said Zekle; “but you see a man must do his duty. No, no, Mas’r Mark, you mustn’t tempt me.”

“I’ll get you the money at once, Zekle,” said Penelly, who saw that his visitor was trembling in the balance—that is, he appeared to be; but Zekle had make up his mind to have twenty-five pounds down before he entered the house.

“I didn’t ought to take it, you know,” said Zekle, hesitating.

“But you will, Zekle, and I’ll never forget your goodness,” said Penelly imploringly; and then hastily locking the door to make sure that his visitor did not go, he went out of the room straight to a desk in his father’s office, which he opened with a key of his own, and returned directly with four five-pound notes and five sovereigns.

“I oughtn’t to take this, Mas’r Mark,” Zekle grumbled; “it ar’n’t my duty, you know; and I wish you’d give me sov’rins instead of them notes.”

“I cannot,” said Penelly sharply. “It has been hard work to get that.”

“Then I s’pose I must take them,” said Zekle, “but it don’t seem like my duty to;” and as he spoke he carefully wrapped up the notes and placed them with the gold in his pocket.

“Now, you’ll swear you’ll never say a word to a soul about this, Zekle.”

“Of course I won’t, Mas’r Mark. But it goes again the grit. I wouldn’t do it for anyone, you know; but as you say it would be hard on your poor father, I won’t tell.”

Penelly bit his lips and said nothing, while Zekle went maundering on about his duty, and how unwilling he was to take the money, till, seeing an awkward look in his victim’s eyes, he concluded that he had better go, and went out, turning at the door to tell Penelly that he might be quite comfortable now, and wishing him good-night.

“Comfortable, you scoundrel!” cried Penelly as soon as he was alone. “I shall never be comfortable till the news comes in that you have been lost overboard in a storm. I’ve been a fool. I was a fool to do such a thing. I only thought it would give him a ducking; and I’m a greater fool to try and bribe that scoundrel. He’ll be always bleeding me now. I’d far better have set him at defiance and bid him do his worst. Bah! I wish I was not such a coward.”

“If I don’t make him pay me pretty heavy for all this,” said Zekle, chuckling to himself, “I’ll know the reason why. Five-and-twenty pounds earned right slap off by just seeing that net pitched overboard! That’s cleverness, that is. Now I’ll just go up to Mas’r Harry Paul and see what he has got to say. P’r’aps there’s a five or a ten to be made there. It’s better than fishing by a long way.”

Harry Paul’s home was a pleasant cottage on the cliff-side, and on Zekle knocking the door was opened by Harry’s widowed mother, who fetched her son and left the two together.

“Ah, Zekle!” cried Harry frankly, as he held out his hand, “I’m afraid I did not half thank you for helping to save my life.”

“Oh! it don’t matter, Mas’r Harry,” said the fellow, smiling and shuffling about.

“But it does matter,” said Harry warmly; “and I am very grateful to you. I am going into Penzance to-morrow, Zekle, and when I come back I’m going to ask you to accept a silver watch to keep in remembrance of what you did.”

“Oh, you needn’t do that, Mas’r Harry,” replied Zekle; “but I thought I’d like to tell you, don’t you know, all about like how it happened. I kinder felt it to be my duty, you see, and then if you liked to say to me, ‘Here, Zekle Wynn, here’s five or ten pounds for you for what you did,’ why you could, you know; but if you didn’t, why it wouldn’t matter a bit, for I always feel as if it was a man’s duty not to take no money ’less he’s earned it.”

“Ah!” said Harry, looking at him with quite an altered expression.

“You see, you don’t know all,” said Zekle mysteriously, as he went softly to the door, peeped out, and then spoke in a whisper.

“Know all!” said Harry. “Why, I know I was nearly drowned.”

“Yes,” said Zekle, going closer to him and taking hold of his pilot jacket, “you was nearly drownded; but how was it?”

“Some of your pile of mackerel net fell overboard and covered me up. It was very careless of you people.”

“Mack’rel nets don’t tumble overboard and nigh upon drownd people without somebody makes ’em,” said Zekle with a cunning leer.

“Somebody makes them!” said Harry with his eyes flashing. “Why, you don’t mean to say that anybody threw that net over me as I swam round!”

“Oh, no!” said Zekle, “I wouldn’t say such a thing of nobody. Oh, no! ’tain’t my duty to go about telling tales.”

“Look here,” said Harry sharply, “if you expect to earn any reward from me, Zekle Wynn, for telling how it was that that net came over me—and I own that it was very strange that it should just as I was swimming by—speak out like a man.”

“Oh, no! I can’t go accusing people of what they p’r’aps didn’t do,” said Zekle; “but look here, Mas’r Harry, have you got any enemies?”

“Enemies! no,” said the young man. “Perhaps Mark Penelly is not very fond of me since we had that quarrel, but I’ve no enemies.”

“Ho!” said Zekle with a peculiar grin. “Who was aboard our boat?”

“I did not see him as I swam up, but I suppose Mark Penelly was there.”

Zekle nodded.

“Yes, and he walked round to the side; and I saw him, as I was shaking out the fish, go and stand by them mack’rel nets.”

“And do you dare to say that he threw them over me?”

“Oh, no!” said Zekle, “I wouldn’t say such a thing of anybody, Mas’r Harry; no, ’tain’t my duty. I wouldn’t accuse no one; but them nets was safe aboard one minute, and the next minute twenty fathom was atop of you; and if we hadn’t hauled you out you wouldn’t have been talking to me just now.”

Harry Paul jumped up and began to walk about the room, his face flushed and his hands twitching.

“Look here, Zekle Wynn!” he said sharply, “I’m plain-spoken, and I like people to be plain-spoken with me. Now, mind what you are saying.”

“Oh, yes! Mas’r Harry, I am very careful what I say, and I’ll go now; but I thought it was my duty to come, and I said to myself, ‘If he likes to say to me, “There’s five or ten pound for you, Zekle Wynn,” why, he could,’ but of course I don’t expect nothing for doing my duty.”

“Oh, you don’t expect anything?” said Harry sharply.

“Oh, no, Mas’r Harry, sir; I never expect to receive anything for doing my duty.”

“And you thought it was your duty to come and tell me that Mark Penelly tried to drown me?”

“Oh, no! Mas’r Harry, sir—oh dear, no! I never said nothing o’ that sort; I only said as the net was in the boat one minute and the next minute it was all over you.”

“Same thing, Zekle,” said Harry sharply. “And you didn’t expect anything for coming and telling me this?”

“Oh dear, no! Mas’r Harry, sir,” replied Zekle.

“Then you’ll be disappointed,” said Harry, smiling pleasantly, “for I shall give you something.”

“Oh, thank you! Mas’r Harry, sir,” said Zekle, whose face expanded with pleasure. A moment before he had not liked the way in which Harry had taken his hints; but now this declaration of an intention to give him something was pleasant, and he smiled quite broadly as the young man went to a cupboard.

“Will it be five or ten pound?” said Zekle to himself. “I’m making a good night of it this time, and if I don’t—Don’t you hit me with that there, Mas’r Harry! don’t you hit me with that there!” he roared suddenly. “Don’t you hit me with that