which the soldiers and the cutter's men had been sent to quell.
The cutter was generally cruising about, keeping a sharp lookout on the coast for suspicious-looking craft, so that Tregenna got very little time ashore. On the rare occasions when he did get as far inland as the village of Hurst, he always felt a longing to call at the Parsonage and twit Joan with her lawless behavior in helping a criminal to escape.
He was returning to the shore one day, after paying a duty visit to Hurst Court, where the ladies' sympathy with him had been quite overwhelming, though he shrewdly guessed that their silken frocks had been cheaply come by, when he saw Mistress Joan, with a small flock of sheep before her, and a long osier wand in her hand, coming across the high ground from the marsh.
She instantly checked her pace, as if to give him an opportunity to pass before she and her flock came up with him. But he, of course, checked his speed too, and raised his hat with a deep bow as soon as she came near.
Joan threw back the heavy folds of her hooded cloak, and curtsied politely, but with
