"'Bucca's a churnin' the waves of the sea,
Bucca's a darkenin' the sky wi' his frown,
His voice is the roll o' the thunder.
The lightnin' do shaw us the land on our lee,
An' do point to the plaace wheer our bodies shall drown
When the bwoat gaws down from under.'
"Ha, ha, ha, missis! So you'm aboard, eh? Well, 'tis a funny picksher you
makes, an' if tweern't murder an' hell-fire to do it, blamed if I wouldn't
thraw 'e out the ship. 'Thou mad'st him lower than the angels,' but not
much lower, I'm thinkin'. 'Tis all play an' no work wi' them. They ought to
take a back seat 'fore the likes o' us. They abbun no devil at theer tails
all times.
"'But I'll tame the wild devil afore very long.
If I caan't wi' my feests, I will wi' my tongue!'"
Thomasin Tregenza scuffled into her clothes while he babbled, and now,
bidding him sleep in a shaking voice, putting out the candle and taking the
matches with her, she fled into the night to rouse her neighbors and summon
a doctor. She forgot all her other troubles before this overwhelming
tragedy. And the man driveled on in the dark, concerning himself for the
most part with those interests which had occupied his life when he was a
boy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE DESTINATION OF JOAN
Mary Chirgwin did not return to Newlyn after making inquiries at Penzance.
There indeed she learned one fact which might prove important, but the
possibilities to be read from it were various.
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