_ CHAPTER EIGHT. GAFFIN, THE MILLER
Adam had just recounted to his wife his interviews with the mayor and lawyer of Morbury, and had listened to her history of Mr Herbert Castleton's family, and the unhappy fate of his daughter, when a knock was heard at the door. The dame opened it, but drew back on seeing their visitor.
"Good-day, neighbour," said the person who entered, a strongly-built man with a bushy black beard and a sunburnt countenance, the sinister expression of which was ill-calculated to win confidence, and whose semi-nautical costume made it doubtful whether he was a landsman or sailor.
"I have come to have a friendly chat with you, if you will give me leave?"
Without waiting for a reply, still keeping his hat on, he threw himself into a chair by the fire, glancing round the room as he did so.
"What have you got to talk about, Mr Gaffin?" asked Adam, disdaining to give the welcome he could not heartily offer, and instead of sitting down, standing with his hands in his pockets opposite his guest, while the dame continued the work in which she had been engaged.
"I hear you boarded a wreck the other morning and rescued a child from it," observed the visitor.
"I did so," answered Adam, curtly.
"What has become of the child, then?" asked Mr Gaffin, looking round the room as if in search of her. The visitor was Miles Gaffin, the miller of Hurlston, as he was generally called.
"She has gone out for a walk," said the dame, coming up near her husband on hearing the subject of the conversation.
"You will find the maintenance of a child in addition to your own somewhat burdensome in these hard times," observed the miller.
"We can judge better than our neighbours whether the burden is more than we can bear," answered the dame; "so you see, Mr Gaffin, that need not make any one uneasy on our account."
"Very likely, my good woman, and all very well at present; but the day will come when she will require schooling and clothing, and I suppose you had not time to bring much property belonging to her on shore, Adam Halliburt?" said Gaffin, in an inquiring tone.
"No, Miles Gaffin, I had less time to bring anything away than those who visited the wreck before me," he answered, fixing his eyes on the visitor, who met his glance unmoved.
"What! did any one else get on board the wreck, do you think?"
"I am sure of it; and whoever they were, they were heartless villains to leave a little child to perish when they might have saved her."
"Perhaps if people did visit the wreck they were not aware that any human being remained on board," said Gaffin. "Did you see any of the crew? No one has heard of them, I understand."
"It's my belief that they attempted to escape in the boats, which were swamped on crossing the sands," answered Adam. "They deserved their fate, too, if they recollected the poor child and her nurse who were left behind. Though the little dear was saved by their base conduct, as she would have been lost had they taken her, not the less shame to them. However, no one can tell how it happened."
"Of course they attempted to escape in their boats, there is no other way to account for their disappearance," answered Gaffin; "few craft except such as ours on this coast could live in the sea that was then running, for it was as bad as could well be, as I hear. I myself was away to London on business," he added, carelessly.
Adam kept his eyes on his guest while he was speaking, but the countenance of the latter maintained the same bold, defiant look which it generally wore.
As Gaffin made the last remark, Jacob, with his little charge, entered the cottage.
Maiden May, on seeing a stranger, kept tight hold of Jacob's hand, and drew away from the fireplace, where he was seated.
"Is that the child we have been speaking of?" asked Gaffin, looking towards her. "She is indeed a little beauty. Well, my friends, I conclude you don't intend to bring her up as a fisherman's daughter-- pardon me, I don't mean to say anything disrespectful--even supposing you fail to discover to whom she belongs?"
"As to that, Mr Gaffin, God placed her under our charge, and we intend to do our duty by her," answered Adam, firmly.
"Your duty would be to obtain for her every opportunity of retaining the position in which she was born," said Gaffin. "That's no common person's child."
"Maybe she is not; but, as I said before, we will do our best. More than that we cannot do," answered Adam.
"Now, my friend, I have a proposal to make," said Gaffin, speaking in as frank a tone as he could assume. "She will be a heavy burden to you some time hence, if she is not so at present; my wife and I, as you know, have no daughter, although, like you, we have three sons. We are more independent of the world than you are, as my wife had money; you will understand, though, I do not eat the bread of idleness; and as she would very much like to have a little girl to bring up to be her companion when our boys are away, we are willing to take charge of that child and adopt her, should her friends not be discovered. To show you that I am in earnest, here are five guineas as payment to you for going off and bringing her on shore in the gallant way I understand you did. It's a trifling reward, I own, but if I have the power I will increase it should you accept my offer."
Adam stood with his hands in his pockets as he had been doing while his visitor was speaking.
"Keep your money, Mr Gaffin, for when it may be required," he answered, quietly. "My lads and I only did our duty, and what any one with the heart of a man would have tried to do. That little maiden has been placed in my charge, and until her rightful friends appear, my wife and I will take care of her without looking for payment or reward. You have our answer, I speak for myself and dame; there is no use wasting more time in talking about the matter."
"Well, well, neighbour, I cannot take your reply as conclusive," said Gaffin, trying to conceal his annoyance; "just think it over, and you will be doing a great pleasure to my wife and lay us under an obligation if you agree to my proposal."
Adam had given his reply, and was determined to say nothing more. He was anxious, too, to get rid of his guest.
Gaffin at length, finding that he could gain nothing by staying, rose to leave the cottage. The dame took up May and retired with her to the farther end of the room, while Adam stood as before with his hand firmly thrust down into his pocket, as if determined not to shake that of his departing guest, while Jacob opened the door as wide as he could. Gaffin, unabashed, nodded to the fisherman and his dame, and with a swagger in his walk to conceal the irritation he felt, left the cottage. Jacob watched him till he had got to some distance.
"He has gone," he exclaimed. "He shall not have our Maiden May if I can prevent him."
"No fear of that, Jacob. He, with his cursing and swearing, and his wild, lawless ways, and his poor heart-broken, down-spirited wife, bring up a little maid in the way she should go! She would be better off with us as long as we had a crust to give her; and take her from us he shall not, whatever reasons he may have for wishing it. So don't you fear, Jacob, that I will listen to him even if he comes with 50 in his hand, or 500 for that matter. As I said before, if we don't find fairer friends for her than he and his wife are like to prove, Maiden May shall be our child, bless her." _