CHAPTER VI.
MALBROUCK S'EN VA.
"There is mischief of some sort brewing," said Mr. Smellie, the
Riding Officer.
"You think so?" queried Mr. Pennefather, trimming a quill.
"I'd stake my last shilling on it," said Mr. Smellie, slapping his
right boot with his riding-whip. "You, a family man, now--"
"Eleven."
"Quite so. Then you must know how it is with children; when they
look at you as though there was no such thing as original sin, it's
time to keep your eye lifting. Ten to one they're getting round you
with some new devilry. Well, that's the way with your Cornish."
Mr. Smellie came from Glasgow--he and his colleague, Mr. Lomax, the
Riding Officer of the Mevagissey district which lay next to ours.
The Government, it was understood, had chosen and sent them down to
us on the strength of their sense of humour--so different from any to
be found in the Duchy.
It certainly was different. To Mr. Smellie, we of Troy had been at
first but as children at play by the sea; in earnest over games so
infantile as to excite his wondering disdain. He wondered yet; but
insensibly--as might happen to a man astray in fairyland--his disdain
had taken a tinge of fear. Behind "the children sporting on the
shore," his ear had begun to catch the voice of unknown waters
rolling. They came, so to speak, along the sands, these children;
innocent seeming, hilariously intent on their make-believe; and then,
on a sudden, not once but a dozen times, he had found himself
tricked, duped, tripped up and cast on his back; to rise unhurt,
indeed, but clutching at impalpable air while the empty beach rang
with teasing laughter.
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