“The boy’s a bit feverish,” said my uncle’s voice; “he has not got over his fright just yet.”

“Hush! he’s waking!” replied my mother; and as I opened my eyes she bent down and kissed me.  How inexpressibly sweet was that kiss after the nightmare of my dream!

“Jasper dear, are you better now?  Try to lie down and get some more sleep.”

But I was eager to know what news Uncle Loveday had to tell, so I sat up and questioned him.  There was little enough; though, delivered with much pomp, it took some time in telling.  Roughly, it came to this:—­

A body had been discovered—­the body of a small infant—­washed up on the Polkimbra Beach.  This would give an opportunity for an inquest; and, in fact, the coroner was to arrive that afternoon from Penzance with an interpreter for the evidence of the strange sailor, who, it seemed, was a Greek.  Little enough had been got from him, but he seemed to imply that the vessel had struck upon Dead Man’s Rock from the south-west, breaking her back upon its sunken base, and then slipping out and subsiding in the deep water.  It must have happened at high tide, for much coffee and basket-work was found upon high-water line.  This fixed the time of the disaster at about 4 a.m., and my mother’s eyes met mine, as we both remembered that it was about that hour when we heard the wild despairing cry.  For the rest, it was hopeless to seek information from the Greek sailor without an interpreter; nor were there any clothes or identifying marks on the child’s body.  The stranger had been clothed and fed at the Vicarage, and would give his evidence that afternoon.  Hitherto, the name of the vessel was unknown.

At this point my mother’s eyes again sought mine, and I feared fresh inquiries about the Mary Jane; but, luckily, Uncle Loveday had recurred to the question of the Tower of Babel, on which he delivered several profound reflections.  Seeing me still disinclined to explain, she merely sighed, and was silent.

But when Uncle Loveday had broken his fast and, rising, announced that he must drive down to be present at the inquest, to our amazement, mother insisted upon going with him.  Having no suspicion of her deadly fear, he laughed a little at first, and quoted Solomon on the infirmities of women to an extent that made me wonder what Aunt Loveday would have said had he dared broach such a subject to that strong-minded woman.  Seeing, however, that my mother was set upon going, he desisted at last, and put his cart at her service.  Somewhat to her astonishment, as I could see, I asked to be allowed to go also, and, after some entreaty, prevailed.  So we all set out behind Uncle Loveday’s over-fed pony for Polkimbra.