The Twins stared, whispered together, took off their boots, and softly entered the house.  At the door of the sick-room Caleb met them.

“Brain fever,” he whispered, “which es on’y catchin’ for them as has brains to catch et wi’.”

The trio stood together at the foot of the bed on which Mr. Fogo tossed and chattered.  Peter and Paul looked from the sick man to their hats, and back again in silence.  At length the elder Twin spoke—­

“I’ the matter o’ behavin’ rum, some folks does it wi’ cause an’ others not so.  But I reckons ef you allows as there’s likely a cause, you’m ‘pon the safe side—­’speshully wi’ Mr. Fogo.  Wherefore, Caleb, what’s the meanin’ o’ this here?”

“Tamsin!”

The answer came so pat from the sick man’s lips that Peter fairly jumped.  Caleb looked up with finger on lip and a curious smile on his weather-tanned face.

“Don’t leave me!  Look!  There are devils around me—­cold white devils—­devils with blank faces—­no features, only flesh.  Look!  Sunday, Monday, Tuesday—­every day with a devil, every day in the year—­look, look!”

“Pore soul!” whispered Paul; “an’ ’tes Leap Year, too, which makes wan extry.”

“Don’t leave me, Tamsin—­don’t leave me!”

The sick man’s voice rose to a scream.  Caleb bent forward and tried to soothe him.  The mahogany faces of the Twins were blanched.  They whispered apart—­

“You was right, Peter.”

“Aye, more’s the pity.  I thought the lass misliked ’un—­the bigger fool I.  ‘Twas on’y yestiddy I guessed more was troublin’ her than her soiled gown, an’ tax’d her wi’ et.  We used to pride oursel’ on knawin’ her wants afore her spoke—­an’ now—­”

Peter weakly concluded with a sigh.

“Bring Tamsin down an’ help me here,” said Caleb, from across the room.

The pair started.

“That es,” he went on, “ef she’ll come.  You heerd maaster?  Well, he said purty much the same to her yestiddy; so her won’t be frightened.  Leastways, go an’ say you’m comin’ yoursel’ to help nuss; ’cos ef you won’t I’ll nuss ‘un alone, an’ ef that’s the case, you’m a queer pair o’ Christians, as the Devil said to the two black pigs.”

“Fact es,” hesitated Peter, “I’d a-larnt so much las’ evenin’ from Tamsin, though she were main loth to tell; an’ Paul agreed as we’d call this mornin’ an’ tell Mr. Fogo as ’twarn’t right for ’n to set hes thoughts ‘pon Tamsin, who isn’ a leddy, nor to put notions in her head as’ll gi’e her pain hereafter.  An’ that’s all ‘bout et; an’ us brought a whack o’ vegetable produce ‘long wi’ us, jes’ to show there was no ill-feelin’s.  But as et turns out, neither argyment nor vegetables bein’ acceptable to a party that’s sick wi’ a fever, I be clane floored for what to do.”

“Well, now, I’ve a-told ‘ee.  An’ don’t let the grass grow ’neath your feet, ’cos ’twill grow fast enough over your heads some day.”