Page:Joan, the curate.djvu/313

Rh It was a peal of loud, mocking laughter, in a well-known voice.

It came into the church from the wide porch, and echoed through the building.

"Ann!" cried Tregenna, under his breath.

"No, no, not Ann; but Jem Bax!" cried the well-known voice, in clear and ringing tones.

And into the bright light of the doorway strode Ann, in her lad's dress, with a keg slung in front and one behind, in approved smuggler fashion.

"Heaven bless you both, for a pair of innocent lambs," she cried, raising one hand as if in benediction. "See, Ben, do not they make a monstrous pretty pair? Prettier than you and me, when they made us one!"

And the burly form of Ben the Blast, with his kegs slung over his shoulder, came into view behind her.

Everybody was too much taken aback, too much amazed at the deception Ann had practised, and at her unflagging audacity, to attempt to touch either her or the smuggler at her side. With another laugh and a wave of the hand, they both left the church porch,