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 suffered for it, and

paying Cæsar his dues, he 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 wild-fowl 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 sand-blown beach. This spot was higher than the parts Den had already traversed; coarse sand, large stones, and pebbles, mixed with

broken shells-all above high-water mark-composed the flooring. Scattered here and there were stunted blackthorn bushes, which struggled for existence, blown all in one direction by the fierce winds that swept up from the sea. Low, tough, trailing brambles crept over the shingle and larger stones; and where there was the least chance of nourishment, long wiry grass shot up all round about.

It was a dead calm on the water, not a sail was in sight, for little trade was doing. Out on the water, about a hundred yards or so from the shore, a couple of herring gulls were fishing in their own fashion. They were not very common on that shore, and when disturbed were very shy. Seeing something moving, they flapped right out to sea. Nothing was to be seen except the guard-ship a mile or more away: he had to pass close to her as he jogged on, for she was moored on the flats, and surrounded by the water at high tide. "A rest will not hurt me," Den thought, and he sidled round the stunted blackthorns, the highest of them not over four feet, in quest of a little shade.

Sitting there very quietly, thinking of nothing in particular, looking on the hot bright sand, he saw a flash of light run up a stone and rest on the top. It was a lizard on a fly-catching trip. Flies and many small beetles are very numerous about spots