"I was afear'd you might be none compass agen."
"What?"
"None compass—Greek for 'mazed.' Good-bye for the present, sir."
Caleb borrowed a hammer, a nail or two, and a spade, and descended again to the beach. Here he chose a spot carefully, and began to dig a large hole in the shingle. This finished, he turned to the board, and spent some time with the brush in his hand and his head on one side, thinking. Then he began to paint vigorously.
Half-an-hour later, a tall post with a board on top stood on the beach at Kit's House. On the board, in letters six inches long, was tarred the following inscription:—
TAKE NOTICE.
ALL WIMMEN
FOUND TRAPESING ON THIS
BEECH WILL BE DEALT
WITH ACCORDING
TO THE LAW.
Above this notice jauntily rested the Admiral's cocked-hat, which had drifted ashore further up on the shingle—an awful witness to the earnestness of the threat and the vanity of human greatness.
Caleb stood in front of his handiwork and gazed at it with honest pride for some minutes; then went into the house to fetch Mr. Fogo forth to look. He was absent for some minutes. When he returned with his master, their eyes were greeted with a curious sight.
On the spit of shingle, and staring open-mouthed at the notice, stood the Twins, their honest faces expressing the extreme of perplexity. A few yards off the shore, in their boat, waited Tamsin, and leant quietly on her paddles.
