such as Miss Verity and yourself.  A passing show, sir, half the time those I carry; no more to me, bless you, than so many sand-fleas a-hopping on the beach.—­Mr. Blackmore—­coast-guard officer he is—­I fetched him across early, with one of his men coming round from the Head.  And that poor lippity-lop, Abram Sclanders’ eldest.—­Pity he wasn’t put away quiet-like at birth!—­Terrible drag he is on Abram and always will be.  Anybody with an ounce of gumption might have seen he’d be a short-wit from the first.—­I took him over; but that ’ud the opposite way about, as he wanted to go shrimping back of the Bar so he said.”

Jennifer paused as in earnest thought.

“No, not a soul to merit your attention, to-day, sir, that I can call to mind.  Unless”—­with an upward look of returning intelligence—­“but that ain’t very likely either—­unless it should be Darcy Faircloth.  I’d clean forgot him, so I had.  Cap’en Faircloth, as some is so busy calling ’im, now, in season and out of season till it’s fairly fit to make you laugh.—­Remarkable tall, Johnny-head-in-air young feller with a curly yaller beard to him.”

“That’s the man!” Tom exclaimed.

He had distrusted Jennifer’s show of ignorance, believing he was being fenced with, played with, even royally lied to; but this merely served to heighten his curiosity and amusement.  Something of moment must lie, he felt, behind so much wandering talk, something of value, purposely and cunningly withheld until time was ripe for telling disclosure.

“Darcy Faircloth—­Captain Faircloth?” he could not but repeat, and with such honest puzzlement and evident desire for further enlightening as to overcome his hearer’s hesitation.

“No—­not a likely person for you to be in any wise acquainted with, sir,” Jennifer returned, wary still, though yielding—­“even if you didn’t happen to be a bit new to Deadham yourself, as I may put it.  For been away mostly from his natural home here, young Faircloth has, ever since he was a little shaver.  Mrs. Faircloth—­owns the Inn there and all the appurtenances thereof, sheds, cottages, boats, and suchlike, she does—­always had wonnerful high views for him.  Quite the gentleman Darcy must be, with a boarding school into Southampton and then the best of the Merchant Service—­no before the mast for him, bless you.  There was a snug little business to count on, regular takings in the public, week in and week out—­more particularly of late years in the summer—­let alone the rest of the property—­he being the only son of his mother, too, and she a widow woman free to follow any whimsies as took her about the lad.”

Jennifer gave some slow, strong strokes, driving the lumbering boat forward till the water fairly hissed against its sides.  And Tom Verity still listened, strangely, alertly interested, convinced there was more, well worth hearing, to follow.