Rufus stood up with the deference that he never omitted to pay to Adam’s wife.  “So I was,” he said.  “I came along here after to talk to Adam.”

Mrs. Peck’s round eyes gave him a searching look.  “Did you have your mulberry wine?” she asked.

“Yes, Mother.”

“You were mighty quick about it,” commented Mrs. Peck.

“Yes, he’s in a hurry,” said Adam, with one of his birdlike glances.  “Can’t stop for anything, missus.  Wants to get back to his supper.”

“I never!” said Mrs. Peck.  “You aren’t in that hurry, Rufus, surely!  Just as I was going to ask you to do something to oblige me, too!”

“What’s that?” said Rufus.

Mrs. Peck descended into the yard with a hint of mystery.  “Well, just this,” she said confidentially.  “That there Mr. Knight, he’s a very nice young gentleman; but he’s an artist, and you know, artists don’t look at things like ordinary folk.  He wants to get a moonlight picture of the Spear Point, and he’s got our Columbine to say she’ll take him there tonight.  Well, now, I don’t think it’s right, and I told her so.  But, of course, she come out as pat as anything with him being an artist and different-like from the rest.  Still, I said as I’d rather she didn’t, and Adam had better take him, because of the quicksand, you know.  It wouldn’t be hardly safe to let him go alone.  He’s a bit foolhardy too.  But Adam’s not so young as you, Rufus, and he was out before sunrise.  So I thought as how maybe you’d step into the breach and take Mr. Knight along.  Come, you won’t refuse?”

She spoke the last words coaxingly, aware of a certain hardening of the young fisherman’s rugged face.

Adam had got off his chopping-block, and was listening with pursed lips and something of the expression of a terrier at a rat-hole.

“Yes, you go, Rufus!” he said, as Mrs. Peck paused.  “You show him round!  I’d like him to know you.”

“What for?” said Rufus.

Adam contorted one side of his face into something that was between a wink and a grin.  “Do you good to go into society,” he said.  “That’s all right, missus, he’ll go.  Better go and ask Mr. Knight what time he wants to start.”

“Wait a bit!” commanded Rufus.

Mrs. Peck waited.  She knew that her stepson was as slow of speech as his father was prompt, but she thought none the less of him for that.  Rufus was solid, and she respected solid men.

“It comes to this,” said Rufus, speaking ponderously.  “I’ll go if I’m wanted.  But I’m not one for shoving myself in otherwise.  Maybe the chap won’t be so keen himself when he knows he can’t have Columbine to go with him.  Find that out first!”

Mrs. Peck looked at him with an approving smile.  “Lor’, Rufus!  You’ve got some sense,” she said.  “But I wonder how Columbine will take it if I says anything to Mr. Knight behind her back.”

Adam chuckled.  “Columbine in a tantrum is one of the best sights I know,” he remarked.