“I found great difficulty in hiring a boat and the services of its owner.  I wished to be rowed along the coast; to try for pollack; to inspect some of Polreen’s famous caves.  The men were polite again; but one boat leaked badly, another had been pulled up for the carpenter to insert a new strake, a third was too heavy, the owner of a fourth could not leave his business—­it wouldn’t pay him!  At length I patched up a bargain with an old fisherman named Udy—­or rather Old Tom Udy, to distinguish him from his son, who was Young Tom.  He owned the most ramshackle old boat in the Cove:  if the others were out of repair, his was manifestly beyond it.  I took my life in my hands and struck the bargain.

“’When do ‘ee want her?’

“‘Now, at once,’ said I; ‘or as soon as you have had your dinner.’

“He went back to the company by the lifeboat house.  He reminded me of some ancient king consulting a company of stone gods.  They looked at him, and he looked at them.  I suppose a word or two was said; half a dozen of them spat reflectively; nobody moved.  Old Tom Udy came down the beach again; we embarked and pushed off, and the row of expressionless faces watched us from the shore.

“In silence we visited the famous caverns.  As we emerged from the last of these I essayed some casual talk.  To tell the truth, I was beginning to feel the want of it, and of course I began on the first topic of local interest—­the burglary.

“‘The odd thing to me,’ said I, ’is that you seem to have no particular suspicions.’

“‘I’d rather you didn’ talk of it,’ said Old Tom Udy.  ’I got my living to get, and ‘tis a day’s journey to Bodmin.  Tho’ you musn’ think,’ he added, ‘that we bear any gridge.’

“’It seems to me that you men in the Cove treat the whole affair very lightly.’

“‘Iss, tha’s of it,’ he assented.  ‘Mind you, tisn’ right, Seemin’ to me ’tis a terrible thought.  Here you be, for the sake of argument, a Christian man, and in beauty next door to the angels, and the only use you make of it is to steal groceries.  You don’t think I’m putting it too strong?’

“’ Not a bit.’

“‘Well, I’m glad o’ that, because, since you ask me, as a professing Christian, I cudn’ say any less.  But you musn’ think we bear any gridge.’

“‘I’m sure I wonder you don’t.  And the police still have no clue?’

“’The police?  You mean Sammy Crego, the constable?  Why, I’ve knawed en from a boy—­pretty thing if any person in Polreen listened to he!  No:  us han’t failed so low yet as to mind anything the constable says.’

“‘Then the whole affair is as much a mystery as ever?’

“’Now, look ‘ee here; I don’t want to tell nothin’ more about it.  A still tongue makes a wise head; an’ there’s a pollack on the end of your line.’

“The wind stuck in the north-west, and day after day the regal summer weather continued.  I grew tired of hauling in pollack, and determined to have a try for the more exciting conger.  The fun of this, as you know, does not begin till night-fall, and it was seven o’clock in the evening, or thereabouts, when we pushed off from the beach.  By eight we had reached the best grounds and begun operations.  An hour passed, or a little more, and then Old Tom Udy asked when I thought of returning.