As he spoke he threw the light full upon the old smuggler’s rugged features, Prawle growling the while as he began to fill a blackened pipe.
“What am I doing here, Amos Pengelly? Why, filling my pipe.”
“And playing ghost to frighten honest men, Prawle, eh? I say, old fellow,” cried Geoffrey, “we’ve got you on the right spot, so you may as well speak out all you know.”
“All I know?” said Prawle. “I don’t know nothing, only that I come for a walk, and stepped in here to light my pipe.”
“Light your pipe, eh?” cried Geoffrey, laughing.
“Yes,” said Prawle, spitefully, “and found you courting.”
“Found me?” exclaimed Geoffrey. “Why, I’ve been with Amos Pengelly these two hours. Eh, Amos?”
“Ah, well, if it warn’t you it were somebody else. What do you want here?” growled the old fellow.
“Oh! we’ve come in to light our pipes,” said Geoffrey, laughing.
Prawle growled, and, after a furtive look round, turned to go.