Do you live there?" he inquired.

"Wapping," said Henry; "but I know Northfleet very well--Gravesend too.
Ever been there?"

"Never," said the old man emphatically; "never."

"Rather a nice place, I think," said Henry; "I like it better than
Wapping. We've sailed from there a year now. Our skipper is fond of it
too. He's rather sweet on a girl who's teacher in a school there."

"What school?" asked the old man.

The boy gave a slight laugh. "Well, it's no good telling you if you
don't know the place," he said easily; "it's a girls' school."

"I used to know a man that lived there," said the other, speaking slowly
and carefully. "What's her name?"

"I forget," said the boy, yawning.

Conversation flagged, and the two sat idly watching the last of the
children as they toiled slowly towards home from the sands. The sun had
set and the air was getting chilly.

"I'll be getting home," said the old man. "Goodnight, my lad."

"Good-night to you," said the well-mannered Henry.

He watched the old man's still strong figure as it passed slowly up the
steps, and allowing him to get some little distance start, cautiously
followed. He followed him up the steps and along the cliff, the figure
in front never halting until it reached a small court at the back of a
livery stable; then, heedless of the small shadow, now very close
behind, it pushed open the door of a dirty little house and entered. The
shadow crept up and paused irresolute, and then, after a careful survey
of the place, stole silently and swiftly away.

The shadow, choosing the road because it was quicker, now danced back to
Stourwich, and jumping lightly on to the schooner, came behind the cook
and thumped him heavily on the back. Before the cook could seize him he
had passed on to Sam, and embracing as much of that gentleman's waist as
possible, vainly besought him to dance.

"'E's off 'is 'ead," said Sam, shaking himself free and regarding him
unfavorably. "What's wrong, kiddy?"

"Nothing," said Henry jubilantly; "everything's right."

"More happles?" said the 