The Piskey Purse Part 2

'There was n.o.body on the beach except those little Dark Men searching for this purse and Farmer Vivian,' said Gerna. 'Farmer Vivian is a great big man, and lives up at Pentire Glaze Farm. He is very kind, and he do love all the Little People dearly.'

'How do you know he does?' asked the little voice eagerly.

'My Great-Grannie told me he did, and she do know. This little cottage of ours belongs to him, and he al'ays talks to her about the Wee Folk when she goes up to his house to pay the rent. There! Great-Gran is calling up the stairs to ask if I'm in bed. I shall have to put 'ee back into my big pocket now. I hope you won't mind.'

'Not one bit. The only thing I do mind is being given into Hager's power. You won't take me to Piskey Goog, whatever the little Brown Man offers you, will you, dear?'

'Not unless Great-Grannie finds out I've got you an' makes me,'

said the child, putting the purse very carefully into the unbleached pocket. 'I hope she won't go looking into it when she comes up to bed.'

'Can't you hide the pocket somewhere?' asked the little voice anxiously.

'I can put it into the big chest here by the window,' said Gerna, looking around the mean little chamber, which was very bare. 'A storm washed it in on the bar last winter, and Great-Gran don't keep nothing in it but her best clothes.'

'Then put me into the chest,' piped the little voice. 'And please come and take me out to-morrow as soon as you can. It cheers me to hear the voice of a friend, and I believe you are a true friend, you dear little maid!'

The child dropped the pocket into the great sea-chest very quickly, for the ancient dame again called up the stairs to ask if she were in bed, and then came up to see if she were.

Great-Grannie did not get up until quite late the next day, and when she did she sent Gerna to the beach to pick limpets for the ducks, and Gelert to weed the small potato plot at the back of the cottage, a work he hated doing.

When the little girl got to the bay the tide was only half-way down, and it was ever so long before she could get near the limpet rocks. But as soon as the tide let her she began her limpet-picking, and never looked round once.

Her basket was half full when she heard a sharp little voice behind her.

'Have you found the purse I told you of?'

'I haven't looked yet to-day,' said the child, without glancing round. 'I lost all my limpets yesterday through picking up Piskey-purses, an' my Great-Grannie was ever so cross. She sent me to bed without any supper; an' the poor little ducks had to go without their supper too.'

'I am so sorry,' said the little Brown Man, climbing the rock to be on a level with her face; 'but I would not let such a small matter as that prevent me from looking for that purse with its gold ring markings. Your Great-Grannie will never be vexed with you any more when you have found it, and receive another one full of the Small People's gold in exchange.'

'How did you come to lose your purse?' asked the child, anxious to hear what he would say.

'Unfortunately, I took it with me a night or two ago to the cliff above our dwelling-place, where we have our games, and by a terrible misfortune I dropped it over the cliff. I and my relations have been looking for it ever since. I have come here to-day to renew the offer I made yesterday. You would like to be rich, wouldn't you?'

'We are terrible poor!' said the child evasively--'the poorest people in St. Minver parish, Great-Grannie said.'

'Are you really, you poor things?' said the little Brown Man kindly. 'Then, in that case I will double my reward if you find the purse. I will give you two purses full of the Small People's golden money instead of only one. It must, however, be brought to Piskey Goog before the next new moon, and as the present one is in her last quarter, there is not much time to lose, is there?'

'No,' said the child, still going on with her limpet-picking.

'Won't you go and look for it now?' asked the little Brown Man, with a hint of impatience in his voice. 'The tide will be on the flow again soon, and your chance for to-day will be gone.'

'I must fill my basket with limpets first,' said Gerna; 'Grannie raises ducks to sell to the gentry, and we can't afford for them to lose a meal, she says.'

'You are like a limpet yourself; there is no moving you against your will,' cried the little man, scowling, 'and----'

What else he would have said there was no knowing, for Farmer Vivian appeared on the sands at that moment, and shouted across the gray-gold bar, and this caused the little Piskey Man to take to his heels and run into his cavern.

Gerna did not stay on the beach after the wee Brown Man had disappeared--she felt afraid somehow--and she went home with only half a basketful of limpets. This so put out Great-Grannie that she vowed she would send her down to the porth again to find more, if one of her precious ducklings hadn't taken it into its head to have a fit, which so bewildered her that she sent Gelert instead!

What with the sick duckling to attend to, and other little ch.o.r.es the child had to do for the ancient dame, she had not a minute to steal up to the little chamber.

When at last she thought she was free, Gelert rushed into the cottage all excitement.

'What do you think?' he cried, 'the dear little Piskey Men are out on the sands looking for a Piskey-purse. They have lost one, they told me, and whoever finds it and takes it into Piskey Goog shall have a purse full of the Small People's golden money.'

'You don't mean for to say so?' exclaimed the old woman. 'To think of it now! Go along, both of 'ee,' glancing at Gerna, 'an' search for that purse until you do find it.'

'I've searched and searched till I'm tired,' said the boy, 'an' I would have gone on searching if the old sea wasn't tearing in like mad.'

'Oh dear, what a pity!' cried the Great-Grannie. 'We must all go an'

look for that purse to-morrow. I wouldn't have us lose our chance of being rich for anything. Now,' turning to Gerna, 'make haste an'

get our suppers, for the boy must be as hungry as a hedger after such work.'

When the supper was ready, and as they were eating, Gelert remarked:

'I forgot to tell you, Great-Grannie, that the little Brown Men told me it was noised about that Farmer Vivian is going to sell all his land--this little cottage too--and that we are to be turned out.'

'That is the wishtest [6] news I've heard this longful time,' wailed the old woman. 'There isn't another cottage down here, and all the little houses up to Trebetherick an' Churchtown is more rent than I could ever pay.'

'We shall be able to live in a great big house--the biggest house in the parish--when we've found that purse and got the other with the golden pennies, the little Piskey Man told me,' said the boy. 'The money will come just when we most want it--won't it, Great-Gran dear?'

'It will,' chuckled the ancient dame; 'an' we must give ourselves no rest till we find that purse.'

'I feared you had forgotten me,' said the sweet wee voice in the Piskey-bag an hour later, when Gerna had taken it out of the chest.

'I hadn't forgotten you,' said the child a little sadly; 'but I couldn't come before, 'cause----'

'Because what?' asked the little voice anxiously. 'You have not come to give me into the power of the Spriggans, have you?'

'Not now, but I am afraid I shall have to,' said Gerna.

And she then told her how the little Brown Man had come to her again, and how he had doubled his offer if she brought the lost purse to the goog. She also told her all the news Gelert had brought up from the beach, and of Farmer Vivian selling his cottage.

'There isn't a word of truth about his selling your cottage,' said the little voice indignantly. 'He is far too kind to turn an old woman and two little children like you out of your home. It is because he is good that the Spriggans are afraid of him and speak of him so unkindly.'

'But if it should be true,' persisted Gerna, 'will you give me a purseful of golden money if I don't take you to the goog?'

'How quickly you forget, child! I told you but yesterday that I had no gold to give you,' said the little voice. 'Surely you do not love money more than you do kindness and pity? And you are going to commit an unkind deed--for it will be an unkind deed if you sell me for gold. Woe is me!'

'But the purse belongs to the Spriggan King,' said Gerna, as if to excuse herself. 'I shall be only giving him what belongs to him.'

'That is quite true. But I do not belong to him; I belong to my Mammie and Daddy and my own little True Love, whom I shall never, never see again if you take me to Piskey Goog. And I shall be dead to them for ever and ever and ever!'

'Then I won't let those nasty little Dark People have 'ee, whatever they do offer,' cried the child. 'I only wish I could take 'ee over that bog an' moor you told me of to the Tolmen.'

'A wish is father to the deed,' said the little voice somewhat more cheerfully. 'If you really desire to do that act of pity,' it added, after a pause, 'you have not much time to lose, for the moon is on the wane, and there are only three clear days to the birth of the new moon.'