"She warn't yesterday. Maister Mildmay is busy down coast. I'd liever old Joe got the money than he."
They saw no more of the vessel, even from the top of the cliff. Mr. Trevanion was interested in their news, and agreed that it should certainly be imparted to Penwarden or Mr. Polwhele, Mr. Mildmay being absent.
Dick remembered that the old exciseman had probably been up all night. He sympathised with him in his arduous duty of watching all through the long hours of darkness, in fair or foul weather, frost or rain. At dawn of day Penwarden was accustomed to take a "watch below," as he called it, until noon, priding himself on requiring no more than four or five hours' sleep. At noon an old woman from the village came to get his dinner and tidy up, leaving when her work was done, his other meals being prepared by himself. Dick decided not to awaken Penwarden until he had had his sleep out, but to seek Mr. Polwhele, whose house stood on the cliff half-a-mile on the further side of the village. Dick went there by a roundabout way, to avoid meeting the fisher-people and their sour looks. The riding-officer was much surprised at the news he brought.
"'Tis a risky thing on the part of Delarousse, if 'tis indeed he," said Mr. Polwhele; "and why he should come here I can't tell, for Polkerran is not worth powder and shot."
"Maybe to arrange for running a cargo," said Dick.
"I don't think that, for 'tis whispered that the folks here do not deal with him any longer. I can't think 'tis he, but I will run up my signal to warn Mr. Mildmay, if he can see it through the mist. Thank 'ee for the news. Perhaps you will tell Penwarden, and ask him to keep an eye lifting."
Dick promised to do so, and returned home.
Shortly before twelve, the time when Penwarden was usually moving about again, Dick walked up to the cottage to inform him of the strange vessel. He knocked at the door, but there was no answer. Thinking that the old man was lying later than usual after a tiring night's duty, Dick felt loth to rouse him, and resolved to wait a while, walking up and down before the cottage, beating himself for warmth's sake. Now and then he stopped to listen at the door, but there was no sound from within, nor indeed without, except the booming of the surf, the whistle of the wind impinging on the cliff edge, and the screams of gulls which had not yet flown inland to seek their winter sustenance in the neighbourhood of farms. The mist cleared off, and not a sign of the vessel was to be seen on the horizon.
"Old Gammer Oliver is late, too," thought Dick. "Perhaps Joe told her not to come at her usual time."
He took a book from his pocket, and read it, still walking up and down. But he soon tired of this; the hour for the midday meal at the Towers was drawing on; and he would have returned but for his promise to Mr. Polwhele.