The innkeeper turned his head. “Over there,” he repeated; and pulling at his niece’s sleeve, he began shuffling back. Wolf accompanied them round Lenty Pond, and Miss Bess picked up the shawl. Bits of rush-seed were adhering to it; and she shook it in the air.

“Goodbye!” Wolf brought out at this point. “I’m going to call at Pond Cottage before I walk back to Blacksod.”

“ ’Tweren’t either o’ they,” the innkeeper murmured hurriedly, “what drove him to it.”

Wolf looked questioningly at the girl.

“He’s worried,” she said laconically. “Here, uncle, lean on my arm and we’ll soon be home! Have you forgotten what I’ve got for your tea?”

The puckers and creases came wrinkling back.

“She’s got sardines for me tea,” he murmured confidentially.