find him on Surlingham Broad, or in some reed-bed on the banks of the Waveney, armed with his gun-like himself, a curiosity-shooting the pretty and rare bearded tit for sale, or shooting anything else that was marketable, and in the spring collecting birds' eggs for the naturalists. Jack, too, kept a sharp look-out for flotsam and jetsam-old rope, wood, iron; all was fish that came to his net.

He had a room in a cottage near where the Bure debouches into Breydon. He was a widower, and with him lived his son and daughter. The son had work in the town, and Alice, who was about eighteen, did odd jobs for the neighbours when her household duties She was a comely, honest girl, and a great favourite with her father, who was himself a decent sort of fellow.

were over.

One of Jack's occupations in the winter months was shooting wildfowl on Breydon muds, where they were sometimes very numerous. This resource had of late years been of little value to him, the increase in the number of sportsmen being so great, and the pursuit after the birds so keen, that they were much more difficult of access than they formerly were.

It was a blustering Saturday afternoon in December The west wind came sweeping down Breydon with increasing force. The wherries, the crews of which were

anxious to reach Yarmouth before nightfall, were running before the wind with their large single sails close reefed and the peaks lowered half-way down the masts. The white surf which broke over their bows and seethed along the decks told of the force with which they were impelled through the water. When the sails gybed one could hear the deep, thunderlike flaps of the brown canvas at a great distance. Inky banks of clouds rose in the western horizon, and broke up into detached masses, which coursed each other rapidly across the pale, stormy blue of the heavens, the white wings of the sea-birds gleaming against them. Alice sat at the window watching the railway passengers come over the bridge, and now and then looking over the waste of waters. Her father had a job at Southtown, and she did not expect him home until dark, which would not be for another hour. The fire was banked up in the grate, ready to be stirred into a blaze when her father came home; and the kettle was simmering on the hob. She had thrown a shawl over her, to keep herself warm, and a thumb-worn copy of Watts' Hymns lay on her lap. She was neatly though poorly dressed, and she had a patient, hopeful expression in her face that one could not help but like. The extreme cleanliness of everything in the room showed her housewifely care.

A heavy step on the stair startled her from a reverie, and she was surprised to see her father-for it was he return so early.

"What's the matter, father?" she exclaimed.

"Nothing, Liss; let's have some tea, there's a good girl."

Alice, or "Liss," knew her father disliked being questioned, so she set about giving him his tea as nimbly as possible, a “dab” (a kind of flat fish) which he had brought home with him giving a relish to the humble meal. Tea over, her father took down his gun and proceeded to clean it, rinsing it out with hot water, and afterwards inserting the breech end of the barrel between the bars of the grate, a proceeding which apparently did no harm to the old shooting-iron, and speedily dried it. After well oiling it, the barrel was replaced in the stock, and the gun was ready.

"You are not going out shooting to-night, father?" said Liss.

“Ay, my wench, I am-after good game, too. I seed five wild swans make for Breydon this afternoon, and they'll be on the muds to-night," answered he, as he drew on his long woollen stockings over his trousers, and then a pair of well-greased thigh boots.

But the water is so rough, father dear," urged Liss, as she handed him his oilskin jacket and sou'wester.

Never fear. I'll row up with the tide and sail back. Maybe I'll not be gone more'n an hour or two."

"Do be careful, father; I'll sit up until you come back. I wish you weren't going."

Tut, tut, child; give me a kiss, and come and see me off, for luck."

He had a tough pull to get out of the in-coming tide of the Bure; but once clear of its current he rapidly made headway against the wind, and Alice lost sight of him in the swift coming darkness. Then she returned, and, after washing the teacups and putting them away, she sat over the dying fire-coals were too dear to allow her to replenish it, as there was only herself to warm-alone with her thoughts. Her father had been out on nights quite as bad as the present, but she had never before felt the strange yet vague fear that now beset her. She would have sought her brother's company, but he had gone in the country for his Sunday outing, sweethearting.

Meanwhile Breydon Jack pulled his skiff along the edge of the channel, where the wash caused by the opposing currents of wind and tide was less. Before the daylight quite faded away, and the boundary of marsh and waving reeds was lost in the mist which arose even on that cold wintry night, he had marked

the swans down on a mudbank on the south side of the channel and noted with satisfaction that he was the only gunner in pursuit. Indeed, he was the only human being afloat on Breydon. His design was to cross the channel when the tide had slackened sufficiently to enable him to do it with safety, and to paddle up to leeward of the swans under cover of the darkness. By that time they would be gathered close together on the last few yards of bank which would remain uncovered by the tide. This, when the time came, he succeeded in doing, and in getting within a hundred yards of the swans, whose white bodies were just discernible ahead. A few more strokes of the sculls, then drawing them quietly in, he seized his gun, while the current bore him closer to his quarry. He was just within shot when his boat slewed round broadside to the waves, which were dancing about in a nasty manner over the mud. There was no time to get an oar out to right her, as the swans had taken the alarm, and one of them had arisen. Standing up, the better to cover them, Jack shouted, and as the others lifted their wings he fired. One lay struggling on the sloppy mud; the others rose heavily, but flew away unhurt, with the exception of one, which shaped its course away from its companions and rose high in the air or

towered," bearing away towards Yarmouth, and most