“Mortal.”

There was a pause:  then Joe continued—­

“I don’t hold by furriners:  let alone they be so hard to get along with in the way of convarsing, they be but a heathen lot.  But, Jasper, warn’t it beautiful?”

“What, Joe?”

“Why, to see the doctor tackle the lingo.  Beautiful, I culls it; but there, he’s a scholard, and no mistake, and ’tain’t no good for to say he ain’t.  Not as ever I’ve heerd it said.”

“But, Joe, the man didn’t seem to understand him.”

“Durn all furriners, say I; they be so cursed pigheaded.  Understand?  I’ll go bail he understood fast enough.”

Joe’s opinions coincided so fatally with my certainty that I held my tongue.

“A dweller in—­what did he call the spot, Jasper?”

“Mesopotamia.”

“Well, I can’t azacly say as I’ve seen any from them parts, but they be all of a piece.  Thicky chap warn’t in the way when prettiness was sarved out, anyhow.  Of all the cut-throat chaps as ever I see—­Mark my words, ’tain’t no music as he’s come after.”

This seemed so indisputable that I did not venture to contradict it.

“I bain’t clear about thicky wreck.  Likely as not ’twas the one I seed all yesterday tacking about:  and if so be as I be right, a pretty lot of lubbers she must have had aboard.  Jonathan, the coast-guard, came down to Lizard Town this morning, and said he seed a big vessel nigh under the cliffs toward midnight, or fancied he seed her:  but fustly Jonathan’s a buffle-head, and secondly ’twas pitch-dark; so if as he swears there weren’t no blue light, ’tain’t likely any man could see, let alone a daft fule like Jonathan.  But, there, ’tain’t no good for to blame he; durn Government! say I, for settin’ one man, and him a born fule, to mind seven mile o’ coast on a night when an airey mouse cou’dn’ see his hand afore his face.”

“What was the vessel like, Joe, that you saw?”

“East Indyman, by the looks of her; and a passel of lubberin’ furriners aboard, by the way she was worked.  I seed her miss stays twice myself:  so when Jonathan turns up wi’ this tale, I says to myself, ’tis the very same.  Though ’tis terrible queer he never heard nowt; but he ain’t got a ha’porth o’ gumption, let alone that by time he’s been cloppin’ round his seven mile o’ beat half a dozen ships might go to kingdom come.”

With this, for we had come to the door of Lantrig, Joe bid me good-bye, and turned along the cliffs to seek fresh news at Polkimbra.

Instead of going indoors at once I watched his short, oddly-shaped figure stride away, and then sat down on the edge of the cliff for a minute to collect my thoughts.  The day was ripening into that mellow glory which is the peculiar grace of autumn.  Below me the sea, still flaked with spume, was gradually heaving to rest; the morning light outlined the cliffs in glistening prominence, and clothed them, as well as the billowy clouds above, with a reality which gave the lie to my morning’s adventure.  The old doorway, too, looked so familiar and peaceful, the old house so reassuring, that I half wondered if I had not two lives, and were not coming back to the old quiet everyday experience again.