That was the time for more larks than one. The four became so energetic over their work now and again, that old Tit would rush from subterranean regions underneath them, and ask what they meant by "whoopin', hollerin', and rampagin' about in a church in that scandalous fashion, like so many young cart-hosses."

They did certainly wake the poor owls up most effectually, causing them to mop and mow in their fright like so many feathered lunatics. As to the bats, young Tit said, "I has 'em along o' me a goodish bit at times."

He confided, as a profound secret, to the three boys one day, that he'd heard his father tell his mother that " Things" (with a large T) had been seen coming up the long churchyard path of a night, and some of them were moving over the graves, but they made no noise-the true figure of them had never been seen plain.

Scoot and Winder exchanged significant looks.

"Did yer father tell it to yerself as well as to yer mother, Tit?" asked Winder.

"No, I on'y heard him; he didn't know as I was by."

It might be thought only a curious coincidence, perhaps, but the evening of the day on which young Titlark repeated this to the boys-Winder was getting a well-grown lad now, and in the confidence of his father-as soon as it was dark his father, and Scoot's with him, lounged up to Titlark's house, where they remained in close conversation with him for some time, after which they left him in most friendly fashion.

Next day young Tit was seen looking out of his bedroom window in a very doleful fashion. Scoot noticed him, and observed to Winder that he'd perhaps "bin 'bliged tu hev sum med'cine o' some sort or other."

It was true in a sense, but it was an application of ash stick administered to him by old Titlark, which gave him severe tingling sensations not soon forgotten. After that he never told again of “Things” being seen in the churchyard.

Titlark junior did not take to his father's profession. The polishing of that shovel and pick proved too much for him. He bolted one day and enlisted as a soldier, dying later on, sword in hand, in India. Poor Tit! there was much good in him.

There were many things about which a lad had to keep his tongue "twixt his teeth," as they said in Marshton. Any tripping and indiscretion in conversation was apt to be visited sharply on the offender. Not that any dark or desperate deeds were committed, but smuggling was held to be a very venial offence; whilst the life of a babbler or tale-bearer was rendered impossible to him in the marshlands. The simple fact was, all smuggled when they got the chance; the part of the coast where Marshton lay was notorious for it. It did not in the least interfere with their duties as fathers or husbands, nor yet with their religious ones. Most of them went to chapel, and a few to church. If one was caught in the act of importing without paying Cæsar his dues, he suffered for it, and suffered without complaint. Tradition said that once or twice those who had been captured had implicated others. They paid the penalty for doing so. "'Twas on'y them as hed furrin blood in 'em as did thet," the crones said. Lifelong banishment from the marshes was the result, and their names became a by-word in the fishing quarter and along the shores.

From what I have been able to gather, the practice

has not yet quite died out there; but that is a matter that does not concern us here.

There were some weird and ghostly stories connected with old Titlark's domain, invented doubtless, many of them, by the bolder spirits and keener wits on the flats, to suit their own purposes. It was rumoured that figures had been seen rising out of the flat-slabbed, moss-covered tombs. Winder and Scoot believed in these tales most firmly. Winder could have told, had he been so indiscreet, that not only did ghostlike forms arise, but they also disappeared beneath the great stones bearing strange-looking packages in their arms. Some of the slabs, massive though they were, moved easily, if you were let into the secret.

Another story circulated freely to the effect that creatures like huge bears had been seen rushing over the flats and through the churchyard at a terrific speed, yet in perfect silence. Many of the fisher lads and lasses could swear to having seen them when coming from their boats through the marshes.

CHAPTER XI.

A LONGSHORE RAMBLE.

FORTUNATELY for Denzil's development as a naturalist, if not for the family exchequer, the branch of trade at which he and his father worked gave them little or no employment at certain seasons of the year; so he was able to give more time to the pursuit of knowledge of the ways and haunts of the wildfowl than his elders approved. At an early age Den kept a note and sketch book, which he found valuable in after-life.

One day, in his wanderings, he found himself on a long strip of sandy beach quite different from that part of the shore which he more commonly frequented. It was on a fine day in June, and very hot; a blue dancing mist hung over the water and the shingly sandblown beach. This spot was higher

G