"I'll let 'em have it for this when I do find 'em," grumbled the lad. "Must ha' gone home'ards some other way." And they could hear him muttering and grumbling as the twigs and strands rustled where he passed, till they knew that he was well outside, for they heard him give a stamp on one of the blocks of granite.

Vince rose silently.

"Come on," he said,—"the brambles will screen us;" and he crept forward carefully, till he was close to the hole, and then cautiously advanced his head, to peer upward, raising his hand warningly to Mike, who was just behind. For the lad had not gone away, but was standing at the edge with his back to them, and his eyes sheltered, gazing upward at the ridge.

He remained there watching intently for quite ten minutes without moving, and then went off out of sight, the only guide to the direction he took being the rustling of displaced bushes and the musical clink of a loose block of stone moved by his passing feet.

They did not trust themselves to speak for some time after the last faint sound had died out, and then they began to discuss the question whether they could escape unseen.

"Must chance it," said Vince at last. "I'm tired of staying here. Come on."

Mike was evidently quite as weary, for he showed his agreement by following at once. They were both cautious in the extreme, going out on all fours, and then crawling in and out between the blocks of granite—a pleasant enough task so long as the growth between was whortleberry, heath or ferns, but as for the most part it was the long thorny strands of the blackberry, the travelling became more and more painful. At last, after progressing in this way some three hundred yards, a horribly thorny strand hooked Vince in the leg of his trousers and skin as well, with the result that he started to his feet angrily.

"Here, I've had enough of this," he cried. "Hang the old cavern! it isn't worth the trouble."

"Hist!" exclaimed Mike, seizing him by the leg and pointing straight away to their right.

Vince dropped forward, with his arms stretched over the nearest block of grey stone, staring at the object pointed out, and seeing Carnach junior right up close to the highest part of the ridge.

For a few moments he could not be sure whether the young fisherman was looking in their direction, or away; from them; but a movement on the part of the lad set this at rest directly after, and they saw him go slowly on, helping himself by clutching at the saw-like row of jagged stones which divided one slope from the other; and, satisfied that they had not been seen, they recommenced their crawl, till they reached the cover of a pile of the loose rocks, which were pretty well covered with growth.

Placing this between them and the lad, now far away upon the ridge, they made for the cover of the stunted oaks, and there breathed freely.

Mike was the first to speak, and he began just as if his companion had the moment before made his impatient remarks about the adventure not being worth the trouble.

"I don't know," he said. "This is the first time we have had any bother, and I don't see why we should give such a jolly place up just because that thick-headed old Lobster came watching us."

"Ah! but that isn't all," said Vince. "We can't go down there any more, on account of the smugglers."

"But I don't believe you are right. Those things looked new, I know; but they must be as old as old, for if any smuggling had been going on here we must have seen or heard of it."

"But the sand—the sand! Those footprints must be new."

"I don't see it," said Mike, rather stubbornly. "Because the wind blows into one cave and drifts the light sand all over, that's no reason why it should do so in another cave, which may be regularly sheltered."

"It's no good to argue with you," said Vince sourly, for he was weary and put out. "You can have it your own way, only I tell you this,— smugglers don't stand any nonsense; they'll shoot at any one who tries to stop them or find out where they land cargoes, and we should look nice if they suddenly came upon us."

"People don't come suddenly on you when they've been dead a hundred years," replied Mike. "Now, just look here: we must do it as if we took no interest in it, but you ask your father to-night, and I'll ask mine, whether they ever heard of there being smugglers in the Crag."

"Well, I will," said Vince; "but you must do the same."

"Of course I shall; and we shall find that it must have been an enormous time ago, and that we've as good a right to those things as anybody, for they were brought there and then forgotten."

"Well, we shall see," said Vince; and that night, at their late tea, he started the subject with—

"Have you ever known any smugglers to be here, father?"

"Smugglers? No, Vince," said the Doctor, smiling. "There's nothing ever made here that would carry duty, for people to want to get it into England free; and on the other hand, it would not be of any use for smugglers to bring anything here, for there is no one to buy smuggled goods, such as they might bring from Holland or France."

Somewhere about the same time Mike approached the question at the old manor house.

"Smugglers, Mike?" said Sir Francis. "Oh no, my boy, we've never had smugglers here. The place is too dangerous, and perfectly useless to such people, for they land contraband goods only where they can find a good market for them. Now, if you had said pirates, I could tell you something different."

"Were there ever pirates, then?" cried Mike excitedly. Sir Francis laughed.

"It's strange," he said, "what interest boys always have taken in smugglers, pirates, and brigand stories. Why, you're as bad as the rest, boy! But there, I'm running away from your question. Yes, I believe there were pirates here at one time; but it is over a hundred years ago, and they were a crew of low, ruffianly scoundrels, who got possession of a vessel and lived for years by plundering the outward and inward bound merchantmen; and being on a fast sailing vessel they always escaped by running for shore, and from their knowledge of the rocks and currents they could sail where strangers dared not follow. But the whole history has been dressed up tremendously, and made romantic. It was said that they brought supernatural aid to bear in navigating their craft, and that they would sail right up to the Crag and then become invisible: people would see them one minute and they'd be gone the next."

"Hah!" ejaculated Mike, and his father smiled. "All superstitious nonsense, of course, my boy; but the ignorant people get hold of these traditions and believe in them. Mr Deane here will soon tell you how in history molehills got stretched up into mountains."

"Or snowballs grew into historical avalanches," said the tutor.

"Exactly," said Sir Francis. "I fancy, Mike, that those people may have had a nest here. One of the men—Carnach I think it was—told me that they had a cave, and only sailed from it at night."

"Did he know where it was, father?"

"I remember now he said it was 'sumwers about,' which is rather vague; but still there are several holes on the west coast which might have been made habitable; though I have never seen such a cave on the island, nor even one that could have been serviceable as a store."

Mike winced a little, for he fully expected to hear his father say "Have you?" But then Sir Francis went off to another subject, and the boy nursed up his ideas ready for his next meeting with Vince, which was on the following day.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

PIRATES OR SMUGGLERS? HOW TO PROVE IT.

"Pirates, Cinder!"

Mike was down at the gate waiting for Vince to come with his roll of exercises, ready for the morning's work; and as soon as Vince came within earshot he fired off the word that he had been dreaming about all night—

"Pirates!"

"Where?" cried Vince, looking sharply round and out to sea.

"Get out! You know what I mean. It's pirates, not smugglers."

Vince stared at him for a few moments, and then burst out laughing.

"Well, you've got it this time," he said, "if you mean the cave."

"And I do," said Mike quietly. "Pirates; and that's some of the plunder and booty they took from a ship over a hundred years ago. So now whose will it be?"

"Stop a moment," said Vince, looking preternaturally serious; "let's be certain who it was. Let me see: there was Paul Jones, and Blackbeard, and the Buccaneers. What do you say to its having belonged to the Buccaneers?"

"Ah! you may laugh, but my father said last night that he never knew of smugglers being on the island, but that there was a story about pirates having a cave here, and going out in their vessel to plunder the outward and homeward bound merchantmen."

"Humph!" grunted Vince, with a sceptical look.

"And look here: he said the people had a superstitious belief that the pirates used to sail towards the Crag, and then disappear."

"What!" cried Vince eagerly.

"Disappear quite suddenly."

"Behind that line of rocks when they sailed into the little cove, Mike?"

"To be sure. Now, then, why don't you laugh and sneer?" cried Mike. "Does it sound so stupid now?"

"I don't know," said Vince, beginning to be dubious again.

"Then I do," said Mike warmly. "I never knew of such an unbelieving sort of chap as you are. There's the cave, and there's all the plunder in it—just such stuff as the pirates would get out of a ship homeward bound."

"Yes; but why did they leave it there and not sell it?"

"I know," cried Mike excitedly: "because one day they went out and attacked a ship so as to plunder her, and found out all at once that it was a man-o'-war; and as soon as the man-o'-war's captain found out that they were pirates he had all the guns double-shotted, and gave the order to fire a broadside, and sank the pirate."

"That's the way," said Vince, laughing; "and the pirate captain ran up the rigging with a hammer and some tin-tacks, and nailed the colours to the mast."

"Ah! you may laugh," said Mike. "You're disappointed because you didn't find it out first. There it all is, as plain as plain. The people used to think the pirate vessel disappeared, because she sailed out of sight and used to lie in hiding till they wanted to attack another ship. Well, I shan't say any more about it if you are going to laugh, but there's the treasure in the cave: we found it; and half's yours and half's mine. Now then, what did the Doctor say?"

"That he never heard of any smugglers ever being here."

"There!" cried Mike triumphantly.

"He said there was no one here to buy smuggled goods, and nothing here to smuggle."

"Of course not: the other's the idea, and I vote we go down and properly examine our treasure after dinner."

"That is curious," said Vince, "about the tradition of the pirate ship disappearing, because it proves that there is a channel big enough for a small ship."

"Oh you're beginning to believe, then, now?"

"No, I'm not; for I feel sure those are smuggled goods. But, Mike, we must get old Joe to lend us his boat, and sail along there ourselves."

"He wouldn't lend it to us."

"Then I know what we'll do—"

"Now, gentlemen, I'm waiting," said a familiar voice.

"All right, Mr Deane; we're coming," cried Mike. "Now, Cinder, what shall we do?"

"Go and ask the old chap to lend us his boat, and if he won't we'll come back disappointed."

"And what's the good of that?"

"Slip round another way and borrow her. You and I could manage her, couldn't we?"

"Why, I could manage her myself."

"Of course you could. We shouldn't hurt the boat; and we could feel our way in, and see from outside whether it has been a smugglers' place or no."

"That's it," said Mike; and five minutes after they were working hard with the tutor, as if they had nothing on their minds.

That afternoon, with the sun brighter and the sea and sky looking bluer than ever, the two boys were off for their afternoon expedition, making their way along a rough lane that was very beautiful and very bad. It was bad from the point of view that the fisher-farmers of the island looked upon it as a sort of "no man's land," and never favoured it by spreading donkey-cart loads of pebbles or broken granite to fill up the holes trodden in by cows in wet weather, or the tracks made by carts laden with vraick, the sea-weed they collected for manuring their potato and parsnep fields. Consequently, in bad seasons Vince said it was "squishy," and Mike that it was "squashy." But in fine summer weather it was beautiful indeed, for Nature seemed to have made up her mind that it was nonsense for a roadway to be made there to act like a scar on the landscape, just to accommodate a few people who wanted to bring up sea-weed, sand and fish from the shore, and harness donkeys to rough carts to do the work when they might more easily have done it themselves by making a rough windlass, such as they had over their wells, and dragging all they wanted directly up the cliff face to the top—a plan which would have done in fifty yards what the donkeys had to go round nearly half a mile to achieve. As to the road being kept up solely because old Joe Daygo had a cottage down in a notch in the granite walls overlooking the sea, that seemed to be absurd.

Consequently, Nature went to work regularly every year to do away with that road, and she set all her children to help. The gorse bushes hung from the sides, thrusting out their prickly sprays covered with orange and yellow blossom and encroached all they could; the heather sprouted and slowly crept here and there, in company with a lovely fine grass that would have made a lover of smooth lawns frantic with envy. Over the heath, ling, and furze the dodder wreathed and wove its delicate tangle, and the thrift raised its lavender heads to nod with satisfaction at the way in which all the plants and wild shrubs were doing their work.

But there were two things which left all the rest behind, and did by far the most to bring the crooked lane back to beauty. They laughed at the two brionies, black and white; for though they made a glorious show, with their convolvulus and deeply cut leaves, and sent forth strands of wonderfully rapid growth to run over the sturdy blackthorn, which produced such splendid sloes, and then hung down festoons of glossy leaves into the lane that quite put the more slow-growing ivy to the blush, still these lovely trailing festoons died back in the winter, while their rival growths kept on. These rivals were the brambles and the wild clematis, which grew and grew in friendly emulation, and ended, in spite of many rebuffs from trampling feet, by shaking hands across the road; the clematis, not content with that, going farther and embracing and tangling themselves up till rudely broken apart by the passers-by—notably by old Joe Daygo, when he went that way home to his solitary cot, instead of walking, out of sheer awkwardness, across somebody's field or patch.

"I wish father would buy old Joe's cottage," said Vince, as the two lads trudged down the lane that afternoon. "We could make it such a lovely place."

"Yours is right enough," said Mike, pausing in whistling an old French air a good deal affected by the people.

"Oh yes, and I shouldn't like to leave it; but I always like this bit down here; the lane is so jolly. Look."

"What at?"

"Two swallow-tail butterflies. Let's have them."

"Shan't. I'm not going to make myself red-hot running after them if we're going out in the boat. Besides, we haven't got any of your father's pill boxes to put 'em in. I say, how the things do grow down here! Look at that fern and the bracken."

"Yes, and the old foxgloves. They are a height!"

"It's so warm and sheltered. What's that?"

They stopped, for there was a quick, rushing sound amongst the herbage.

"Snake," said Vince, after a pause; "and we've no sticks to hunt him out."

"Down his hole by this time. Come along. What a fellow you are! You always want to be off after something. Why can't you keep to one purpose at a time, as Mr Deane says, so as to master it?"

"Hark at old Ladle beginning to lay down the law," cried Vince merrily. "You're just as bad. I say, shall we stop about here this afternoon? Look at that gull—how it seems to watch us."

Vince threw back his head to gaze up at the beautiful, white-breasted bird, which was keeping them company, and sailing about here and there some twenty feet overhead, watching them all the time.

"Bother the gull!" said Mike. "Let's go on and speak to old Joe about the boat."

"Oh, very well," said Vince; "but what's the hurry? I hate racing along when there's so much to see. Here, Ladle: look—look! My! what a chance for a seine!"

They had just reached a turn in the lane where they could look down at an embayed portion of the deep blue sea, in which a wide patch was sparkling and flashing in the most dazzling way, and literally seeming to boil as if some large volcanic fire were at work below.

"Mackerel," said Vince.

"Pilchards," said Mike.

"'Taint: it's too soon. It's mackerel. What a chance!"

"Have it your own way," said Mike; "but a nice chance! Ha! ha! Why, if they surrounded them they'd get their nets all torn to pieces. There's sand all round, but the middle there is full of the worst rocks off the coast."

"Yes I s'pose it would be rocky," said Vince thoughtfully. "Well, do come on."

Mike turned upon him to resent the order, feeling that it was nice to be accused of delaying their progress; but the mirthful look on Vince's face disarmed him, and after a skirmish and spar to get rid of a little of their effervescing vitality, consequent upon the stimulating effects of the glorious air, they broke into a trot and went past a large patch where a man was busy hoeing away at a grand crop of carrots, destined for winter food for his soft-eyed cow, tethered close at hand; and soon after came in sight of a massive, rough chimney-stack of granite, apparently level with the road. But this latter made a sudden dip down into a steep hollow, and there stood the comfortable-looking cottage inhabited by the old fisherman, with its goodly garden, cow-shed, and many little additions which betokened prosperity.

The door was open, and, quite at home, the boys walked into the half parlour, half kitchen-like place, with its walls decorated with fishing-gear and dried fish, with various shells, spars, and minerals, which the old man called his "koorosseties," some native, but many obtained from men who had made long voyages in ocean-going ships.

"Hi, Joe! where are you?" cried Vince, hammering on the open door. But there was not a sound to be heard; and they came out, climbed up the rocks at the back till they were above the chimneys, and looked round, expecting to find that he had gone off to the granite-hedged field where he tethered his cows.

But the two sleek creatures were browsing away, and no one was in sight but the man, some hundred yards or so distant, hoeing the weeds from his carrots.

"How tiresome!" said Mike.

"All right: he'll know," cried Vince; and they trotted to where the man was very slowly freeing his vegetables from intruders.

"Hi, Jemmy Carnach!" shouted the lad, "seen Joe Daygo?"

"Ay,—hour ago," said the man, straightening himself slowly, and passing one hand behind him to begin softly rubbing his back: "he've gone yonder to do somethin' to his boat."

"Come on, Mike; we'll cut straight across here and catch him. It's much nearer."

"Going fishing, young sirs?" said the man.

"Yes, and for a sail."

"If you see that boy o' mine—"

"What, Lobster?" said Vince.

"Eh? lobster?" said the man eagerly. "Ay, if you ketch any, you might leave us one as you come back. I arn't seen one for a week."

"All right," said Mike, after a merry glance at Vince; "if we get any we'll leave you one."

"Ay, do, lad," said the man. "Good for them as has to tyle all day. If you see my boy, tell him I want him. I'm not going to do all the work and him nothing."

"We'll tell him," said Vince.

"And if he says he won't come, you lick him, mind. Don't you be feared."

The boys were pretty well out of hearing when the last words were spoken; and after a sharp trot, along by the side of the cliff where it was possible, they came to the rugged descent leading to old Daygo's tiny port.

This time they were not disappointed, for they caught sight of the old man's cap as he stood below with his back to them, driving a wooden peg into a crack in the rock with a rounded boulder, ready for hanging up some article of fishing-gear.

"You ask him," said Mike: "he likes you best."

"All right," said Vince; and, putting his hands to his lips, he shouted out, "Daygo, ahoy!"

"Ahoy!" cried the old man, without turning his head; and he kept on thumping away till the boys had reached him, when he slowly turned to face them, and threw down the great pebble.

Vince was too thorough to hesitate, and he opened the business at once, in his outspoken way:

"Here, Joe!" he cried; "we want you to lend us your boat to go for a sail."

"To lend you my boat to go for a sail?" said the old man, nodding his head softly.

"Yes; and we shan't be very long, because we must be back to tea."

"And you won't be very long, because you must be back to tea?"

"Yes; and we won't trouble you. We can get it out ourselves."

"And you won't trouble me, because you can get it out yourselves?"

"That's right."

"Oh, that's right, is it, Master Vince? That's what you thinks," said the old fisherman.

"But you'll lend it to us, won't you?"

"Nay, my lad—I won't."

"Why?"

"Why?" said Daygo, beginning to rasp his nose, according to custom, with his rough forefinger. "He says why? Mebbe you'd lose her."

"No, we wouldn't, Joe."

"Mebbe you'd run her on the rocks."

"Nonsense!—just as if we don't know where the rocks are. Know 'em nearly as well as you do."

Daygo chuckled.

"Oh, come, Joe, don't be disagreeable. We'll take plenty of care of it, and pay you what you like."

"Your fathers tell you to come to me?"

"No."

"Thought not. Nay, my lads, I won't lend you my boat, and there's an end on it. I'm not going to have your two fathers coming to ask me why I sent you both to the bottom."

"Such stuff!" cried Vince angrily. "Just as if we could come to harm on a day like this."

"Ah! you don't know, lad; I do. Never can tell when a squall's coming off the land."

"Well, I do call it disagreeable," said Vince. "Will you take us out?"

"Nay, not to-day."

"Oh, very well. Never mind, but I shan't forget it. Did think you'd have done that, Joe. Come on, Mike; let's go and get some lines and fish off the rocks."

"Ay, that's the best game for boys like you," said the old man; and, stooping down, he picked up the boulder and began to knock again at the wooden peg without taking any notice of his visitors.

"Come on, Vince," said Mike; and they walked back up the cliff, climbing slowly, but as soon as they were out of the old man's sight starting off quickly to gain a clump of rocks, which they placed between them and the way down. Here they began to climb carefully till they had reached a spot from whence they could look down upon the little winding channel leading from the tunnel to Daygo's natural dock.

They could see the old man, too, moving about far below, evidently fetching something to hang upon the great peg he had finished driving in; and, after disappearing for a few minutes, he came into sight again, and they saw him hang the something up—but what, at that distance, they could not make out.

At the end of a few minutes the old man went down to his boat, stayed with it another five minutes or so, and then stood looking about him.

"It's no go, Cinder," said Mike, in a disappointed tone; "we shan't get off to-day, and perhaps it's best. We oughtn't to take his boat."

"Why not? It's only like borrowing anything of a neighbour. He was sour to-day, or else he'd have lent it."

"But suppose he finds out?"

"Well, then he'll only laugh. You'll see: he'll be off directly."

Mike shook his head as they lay there upon their breasts, with their heads hidden behind tufts of heather; but Vince was right as to the old man soon going, for directly after they saw him begin to climb deliberately up to the level, look cautiously round, and then, bent of back, trudge slowly off in the direction of his home; while, as soon as he was well on his way, the boys crept downward till they were at the foot of the rocks, when Vince cried:

"Now then: lizards!" and began to crawl at a pretty good rate towards the way down to the natural dock, quite out of sight of the old man if he had looked back.

The rugged way down was reached, and here they were able to rise erect and begin to descend in the normal way, Vince starting off rapidly.

"Come on!" he cried; "old Joe will never know. I say, we have 'sarcumwented' him, as he'd call it."

"Yes, it's all very well," said Mike, whose conscience was pricking him, "but it always seems so precious easy to do what you oughtn't to."

"Pooh!" cried Vince; "this is nothing."

"Some one is sure to say he has seen the boat out."

"Well, I don't care if he does. Joe ought to have lent us the boat; I'm sure we've done things enough for him. There, don't talk; let's get her. He might come back for something, and stop us."



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A RISKY TRIP.

But the old fisherman did not return, and they took down mast, sail, oars, and boat-hook, cast the little craft loose, jumped in, and skilfully sent her along the channel, without startling any mullet this time. Then the tunnel was reached, passed through, a good thrust or two given, and the boat glided out over the transparent waves, Mike thrusting an oar from the stern and sculling her along till they were well out from the shelter of the rocks, when he drew in his oar and helped to step the little mast and hoist the sail. In a few minutes more they were gliding swiftly along, with Vince cautiously holding the sheet and Mike steering.

"As if we couldn't manage a boat!" cried Vince, laughing. "Starboard a little, Ladle. Rocks."

Mike knew the sunken rocks, though, as well as he, and carefully gave them a wide berth; while, as they reached out farther from the land and caught the full power of the soft south-westerly breeze, the boat careened over, the water rattled beneath her bows, and away they went, steering so as to clear the point and get well abreast of the Scraw before going in to investigate, and try if there was an easy way of reaching the sheltered rounded cove.

For some time every rock and point was perfectly familiar; they knew every cavern and rift, and talked and chatted about the days when they had fished here, gone egging there, and climbed up or descended yonder; but after a time the rocks began to look strange.

"Good job for us that Joe's place is on the other side of the island," said Vince cheerily. "I say, what a game if he saw the boat going along, and took out his old glass to try and make out what craft it was?"

"But he isn't this side," said Mike. "I say, think there are any rocks out here?—because I don't know them."

"I don't think there can be," said Vince. "Remember coming out here with your father a year ago?"

"Yes," said Mike; "but we were half a mile farther out, because he said something about the current."

"Well, of course I don't know," said Vince; "but the water looks smooth and deep. We should soon see it working and boiling up if there were any rough rocks at the bottom."

"Or near the top," said Mike thoughtfully. "Now, look: oughtn't we to be seeing the ridge over the Scraw by this time?"

"Not yet," replied Vince, who was carefully scanning the coast now. "We've only just passed the point; and it must be yonder, farther along."

They both scanned the cliffs very carefully, but they all looked much the same—grey, forbidding, and grand, as they towered up from the water, nowhere showing a place where any one could land.

"I say," cried Vince suddenly, "we're going along at a pretty good rate, aren't we?"

"Yes, I was thinking so. Too fast: take in a bit of canvas."

Vince did not speak for a few moments, but gazed from the sail to the surface of the smooth sea and back again two or three times.

"'Tisn't the sail that carries us along so," he said at last; "she only just fills, and hardly pulls at the sheet at all. Ladle, old chap, we're in a current that's carding us along at a tremendous rate."

Mike looked at him in alarm, but Vince went on coolly.

"There's nothing to mind, so long as we keep a sharp look-out for rocks. The old boat would crush up like an egg if she went on one now. Here, Ladle, quick! Look there!"

"What at?"

"The rocks. I mean the cliffs. Ah! port! port!—quick."

Mike obeyed, and none too soon, for as Vince was calling his attention to the shape of the cliffs ashore, a rough, sharp pinnacle of rock rose some ten feet out of the water just in front, with others to right and left, and the boat just cleared the principal danger by gliding through a narrow opening and then racing on upon the other side.

Here they found rock after rock standing out, some as much as twenty feet, whitened by the sea-birds, while others were just level with the surface and washed by foam.

The way was literally strewn with dangers, and prudence suggested lowering the sail; but prudence was wrong—quick sailing was the only way to safety, so that they might have speed enough to insure good steering in the rapid current.

"We must keep on going," said Vince, "or we shall be on the rocks, as sure as we live. I say, can you keep an eye on the shore?"

"No: I'm obliged to mind the rocks ahead. You look."

"I can't," said Vince; "it's impossible, with all these shoals about. Look out! here's quite a whirlpool. Port a little more—port!"

The eddy they had to pass was caused by a couple of rocks close to the surface; and in avoiding these they went stern over another, which appeared to rise suddenly out of the clear sea, and was so close that the wonder to them was that they did not touch it. But the little boat drew very little water, and probably they were a few inches above it as they glided on into deep water again.

"That was a close shave," cried Vince. "I say, it's impossible to try and find the way in there while we have to dodge in and out here."

"Think there would be less current closer in?" said Mike.

"No, I don't. Look for yourself: it's rushing along, and there are twice as many rocks. I say, Ladle, we had better get out of this as soon as we can."

Mike said nothing, but he evidently agreed, and sat there steering with his oar over the stern, his teeth set and his brow knit, gazing straight ahead for the many dangers by which they had to pass, before, to their great relief, the last seemed to be past, and they had time to turn their attention toward the shore.

"It's easy enough now," said Vince. "Why, that's North Point, and the Scraw must be half a mile behind!"

The current was now setting right in, as if to cross the most northern point of the island; and knowing from old experience that it was possible to get into a return current close beneath the north cliffs, they steered in, and, the breeze freshening a little, they gradually glided out of the swift race which had been bearing them along, and in a few minutes were about a hundred yards from the cliffs, in deep water, and were being carried slowly in the opposite direction—that is, back towards the place they sought to examine.

"Well, that's right enough," said Vince; "it's a regular backwater, and just what we wanted. We shall do it this time."

"Think there's any danger?" said Mike.

"Not if it keeps like this," replied Vince. "We'll go on, won't we?"

Mike nodded; and making short tacks, helped by the gentle current which was running well inside the rocks, about which they could see the tide surging, they by degrees approached the range of cliffs which they felt must be the outer boundary of the little cove.

"This is grand," said Vince, as they drew nearer. "Why, it's as easy as can be, and any one might have done it if they'd thought of coming here. I say, isn't it deep? This is a regular channel, and I shouldn't be surprised if it takes us straight to the way in, for it's perfectly plain that it can't be out there. No boat could get in—big or little."

"Yes, this seems to be right," said Mike. "See any rocks?"

"Only outside, and they keep off the tide. I say, Mike, there ought to be some good fishing here. I wonder nobody comes."

"Look!" cried Mike; "that is the ridge of rocks we can see across the cove."

"How do you know?"

"Because it's so covered with cormorants and gulls. Then there ought to be an opening somewhere a bit farther—"

"Look out, Mike! Starboard!—hard, or we shall be on that great snag."

As he spoke Vince seized the sail and swung it across, so as to send the boat upon another tack, and as he did so there was a jerk which nearly threw them overboard, a strange scraping, jarring sensation, and the boat's head was swung round, and she was borne rapidly along once more by the current which they had experienced before.

For the fierce race suddenly swept about the rock they had grazed, catching the boat and treating it as if it had been a cork, leaving the boys to devote all their energies to steering, to avoid the rocks which studded their course.

"Just the same game over again," said Vince, "only we're about a hundred yards nearer in, and the rocks are closer together."

Their experience of half an hour before was being repeated, but with added perils in the shape of larger rocks, while, to make matters worse, water was rapidly rising in the boat, one of whose planks had been started when they struck.

Vince was seaman enough to know what to do, and, warning his companion to keep a sharp look-out ahead, he took off his jacket, and then dragged the jersey shirt he wore over his head. Kneeling in the bottom of the boat, he proceeded to stuff the worsted garment into a jagged hole, through which the clear water came bubbling up like some spring.

Mike had glanced at the bubbling water once, and shuddered slightly; but he did not speak then, for there was a great rock right in front, towards which the boat was rushing, with the sail well-filled, and having the leeward gunwale low down by the surface.

But Mike did not even wince. The current was racing them along, while the wind was fresher now, and as the boy pressed down the blade of the oar he could feel that the boat was fully under his control—that it was like some great fish of which he was the tail, and that he had only to give one good stroke with the oar blade to send the prow to right or left as he willed.

And, as Vince patted and stuffed the woollen jersey as tightly as he could into the place where the water rushed up, Mike sat fast, till with a rush they glided by the dangerous rock, and the boy strained his eyes to catch the next danger.

Nothing was very near, and he spoke.

"Will she sink, Cinder?" he said; and it seemed a long time, in his terrible anxiety, before his companion spoke.

"No. There's a lot of water in, but if you can look out and steer, I can hold the sheet and bale."

He handed the sheet to Mike, crept forward, opened the locker in the bows, and took out an old tin pot kept for the purpose, crept back and took the sheet again, as he knelt down in the water and began to bale, scooping it up, and sending it flying over the side, but without seeming to make much impression.

"Another rock," said Mike.

"All right; you know how to pass it," said Vince, without ceasing his work, but sending the water flying to leeward; and for the next quarter of an hour he did not cease—not even turning his head when they went dangerously near rock after rock.

It was only when, with a deep, catching sigh, Mike said that the current did not seem so strong, that he looked up and saw that the rocky point of the island was nearly a couple of miles away.

"Which way shall I steer?" said Mike; and Vince stood up to take in their position.

"If we go round the point with the tide we shall have to fight against the wind and the current that sets along the west shore," he said. "That won't do. We must go back the way we came."

"What, against that mill race?" cried Mike in dismay.

"No: couldn't do it. We must stand out more to sea."

"Out to sea!" cried Mike, aghast: "with the boat filling with water?"

"Well, we can't go the other way. Besides, if we did old Joe would see us pass by, and there'd be a row."

"Well, he must know. He'll see the hole in the bottom,—if we get back," Mike muttered to himself. "But, Vince," he cried, "hadn't we better run ashore somewhere?"

"Yes: where's it to be?" said the boy, with a curious laugh. "Nonsense! We should only sink her at once. There, I must go on baling. It's the only thing we can do, Mikey. Turn her head to it, and run right across the tide. It's getting slacker here. Keep her head well to it. I won't let her sink."

Mike groaned.

"Hullo!" cried Vince cheerily, "is it hard work?"

There was no reply, but the boat careened over as from the fresh pressure of the oar the sail caught the full force of the wind, and they began to run swiftly towards the south-east, right out to sea, but with the intent of running back after reaching well out to south of the island.

It seemed like madness, with the boat leaking as she did, but Vince was right. It was their only chance; and after a few minutes he said, as if to himself:

"I'm going to do a stupid thing. I ought to hold that sheet in my hand, but I want both for baling. Be on the look-out, Ladle. Mind you throw her up in the wind if she goes over too much."

As he spoke he made the sheet fast, rolled up his sleeves, and, taking the pot in both hands, began to make the water fly over the side.

"I say, Ladle," he cried, "when I'm tired you'll have to take a turn; but don't she go along splendidly with all this water ballast in her?"

"Yes," said Mike huskily. "Are you getting it down?"

"Yes, a little. Not much; but if you sail her well we shall run in all right."

"Aren't we going out too far to sea?"

"No; just right. Now, then, don't talk. I want all my breath for working."

Setting his teeth, the boy baled away, and by slow degrees lowered the water a good deal; but he could not cease for a moment, for it surged in through the leak, nor did he dare to push the jersey farther, for fear of loosening the plank more and making a bigger hole.

This went on for fully half an hour, with the island getting more and more distant, and Mike twice over asked if it was not time to make for the shore.

But Vince shook his head, after a glance back at the south point, and worked away at the baling.

"Now," he said suddenly, "I want to go on, but I'm getting slow. Be ready to jump into my place and scoop it out. I'll catch hold of the oar. Ready?"

"Yes."

"Now then."

The exchange was quickly effected, the water sent flying with more energy, and Vince pressed upon the oar as he rested himself, and sent the brave little boat faster through the sea.

"You're giving it to her too hard," remonstrated Mike, as the gunwale went down dangerously near the surface.

"No, I'm not. You hold your tongue and bale," said Vince fiercely. "Keep it down."

Mike worked as he had never worked before, but he could not get the water an inch lower than Vince had left it. Still he never slackened his pace, though he felt sure that it was gaining upon him, and that before long the boat would begin to sink.

At last he could contain himself no longer, and with a hoarse gasp he cried:

"It's of no use, Vince; she's going down."

"No, she isn't," said the boy quietly; "and she can't go down if we pitch out those two big pieces of iron ballast. She'll go over on her side, and we shall have to hold on if it comes to the worst; but I think I can send her in, Ladle, if you can keep on baling."

"Yes, I can keep on," said Mike faintly.

"Tell me when you're beat out, and I'll begin again."

Mike nodded.

"But keep on till you're ready to drop, so as to give me all the rest you can, for my arms feel like bits of wood."

Mike jerked his head again, and the water went on flying out, looking like a shower of gold in the late afternoon sunshine, till Vince shouted to his companion, in regular nautical parlance, to stand by with the sail.

Mike sprang up and loosened the sheet, standing ready to swing the yard over to the other side. Vince threw the boat up in the wind, the sail swung over, filled for the other tack, and they both began to breathe freely as they glided now toward the south point of the island, where a jutting-up mass of rock, looking dim in the distance, showed where the archway and tunnel lay which led into old Joe's little natural dock.

"Shall we do it, Cinder?" said Mike faintly, as he made fast the sheet on the other side.

"Do it?—yes, of course," cried Vince stoutly. "There, my arms are not so numb and full of pins and needles now. Come here and steer."

"No, I can do a little more," said Mike.

"No, you can't. Obey orders always at sea," cried Vince fiercely; and the exchange of position was made; but there was a full two inches more water in the boat, and as Vince began to bale he did so from where he could at any time seize the pieces of pig iron and tilt them over. In fact, several times he felt disposed to do so, but shrank from it as being a last resource, and from dread lest the act should in any way interfere with the boat's speed.

Over went the water in the sunshine; and as the boy baled, from looking golden, it by slow degrees grew of an orange tint, and sparkled gloriously, but a deadly feeling of weakness fixed more and more upon Vince's arms, and as he toiled he knew that before long he must give up to his companion once again. But still he kept on, though it was more and more slowly; and the despair that he had kept to himself was not quite so terrible, for the south point gradually grew nearer, and he had the satisfaction of feeling that he could manage a boat at sea, and well too, for the course they were steering was dead for the tunnel rock, and, could he keep the boat afloat for another twenty minutes or half an hour, they would be safe.

"Come and steer now?" said Mike.

"No," was grunted out; and Vince baled away till the pot dropped from his hands, and he rose and took the oar, pressing it to his chest, and steering by the weight of his body.

Once more the water flew out faster; but Mike was only making a spurt, and his arm moved more and more slowly, till, with a groan, he said feebly:

"I can't do it any longer."

Vince made no reply, but gazed straight before him, seeing the jutting-up rock as if through a mist, while the water bubbled in through the leak, and rose, and rose, without an effort being made to lower it now.

Would she float till they were close in?—would she float till they were close in?—would she float till they were close in? It was as if some one kept on saying this in Vince's ears, as they rushed on, with the rock nearer and nearer, as if coming out of the mist, till it stood out bright in the setting sunlight, and the mental vapour was dispersed by the feeling of exultation which surged through the steersman's breast. For all at once it seemed that safety was within touch; and, turning the boat head to wind, she glided slowly up to the opening in the rock, while the sail flapped and the two boys quickly lowered and furled it, unstepped the mast, and then thrust her in with the boat-hook, reaching the little dock as if in a dream.

Vince staggered as he stepped out on to the granite stones to make the boat fast, and Mike was in little better condition; but by degrees the suffocating sensation which oppressed them grew less painful, and they slowly and laboriously carried oars, spars and sail up to their place of stowage. Then Vince returned to the boat, thrust down his hand and drew out his jersey, Mike taking hold of one end to help him wring it out.

They had neither of them spoken for some time; but at last Vince said: "We shall have to pay old Joe for the mending of the boat."

"I say, Vince," said Mike, in a low, husky tone, "oughtn't we to be thinking about something else? It was very near, wasn't it?"

"Yes," said Vince, with a passionate outburst, "I was thinking of something else;" and he threw himself down upon a huge piece of wave-worn granite and hid his face on his arm.

Half an hour later, the two lads walked slowly home, feeling as grave and sober as a couple of old men, knowing as they did that, though the evening sunshine had been full in their eyes, the shadow of death had hovered very near.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

HAVING IT OUT WITH THE ENEMY.

The two boys were very quiet the next morning, on meeting, and their tutor rubbed his hands with satisfaction twice in the course of their lesson.

"Now, that is what I like," he said; "and how much happier you must feel when you have given your minds thoroughly to the work we have in hand!"

That was the only time during the study hours that anything approaching a smile appeared on Vince's face; but he did cock his eye in a peculiar way at Mike, only to receive a frown in return.

At last the lessons were over, and the boys went out into the garden, strolled into the small shrubbery and patch of woodland which helped to shelter the house from the western gales, and then, marvellous to relate, instead of running off to get rid of some of their pent-up vitality, they sat down upon a prostrate tree-trunk, which had been left for the purpose, and Vince began to rub his shins, bending up and down in a peculiar seesaw fashion.

"I am stiff and tired this morning as can be," he said.

"Oh! I'm worse," said Mike. "I feel just as if I were going to be ill. Haven't caught horrible colds through kneeling in the water so long, have we?"

"Oh no; it's only being tired out from what we did. I say, feel disposed to have another try to find the way in?"

"No," said Mike shortly: "I wouldn't go through what we did yesterday for all the smugglers' caves in the world."

"Well, I don't think I would!" said Vince thoughtfully. "I'm sure I wouldn't. I don't want all the smugglers' caves in the world. But it was risky! Every time I went to sleep last night I began dreaming that the boat was sinking from under me, and then I started up, fancying I must have cried out."

"I got dreaming about it all, too," said Mike, with a shudder. "It was very horrible!"

They sat thinking for some time, and then Vince tried to rouse himself.

"Come on," he said.

"No; I want to sit still."

"But you might walk half-way home with me."

"No," said Mike; "I feel too tired and dull to stir. Besides, if I come half-way with you, I shall have as far to walk back as you have to go. That's doing as much as you do. I'll come with you as far as the corner."

"Come on, then," said Vince; and they started, after groaning as they rose. "I feel stiff all over," sighed Vince, "and as if my head wouldn't go."

They parted at the corner, with the understanding that they were to meet as usual after dinner, and at the appointed time Vince came along the roadside to where Mike lay stretched upon the soft turf.

But there was not the slightest disposition shown for any fresh adventure, and the only idea which found favour with both was that they should stroll as far as the cliff known to them as Brown Corner, and sit down to go over the seascape with their eyes, and try and make out their course on the previous afternoon.

Half an hour later they had reached the edge of the cliff, sat down with their legs dangling over the side, and searched the sea for the rocks they had threaded and for signs of the swift current.

But at the end of some minutes Vince only uttered a grunt and threw himself backward, to lie with his hands under his head.

"I can't make anything of it, Ladle," he said impatiently; "and I'm not going to bother. It looked horribly dangerous when we were in it yesterday, but it only seems beautiful to-day."

"Yes," said Mike; "it's because we're so far off, and things are so much bigger than they look. But it was dangerous enough without having the boat leak."

"Horribly," said Vince. "I wonder we ever got back. Won't try it again, then?" he added, after awhile.

"No, I won't," cried Mike, more emphatically than he had spoken that day.

"Well, I don't think I will, Ladle; only I feel as if I had been beaten."

"So do I: as sore all over as sore."

"Tchah! I don't mean that kind of beating: beaten when I meant to win and sail right into the cove in front of the caves. I say, it wasn't worth taking old Joe's boat for and making a hole in the bottom."

"No; and we haven't said a single word about it yet."

"Felt too tired. I don't care. He'll kick up a row, and say there's ten times as much damage done to it as there really is, and it's next to nothing. Five shillings would more than pay for it. I'll pay part: I've got two-and-fourpence-halfpenny at home; but it's a bother, for I wanted to send and buy some more fishing tackle. Mine's getting very old."

"Well, I'll pay all," said Mike. "I've got six shillings saved up."

"No, that won't be fair," said Vince; "I want to pay as near half as I can."

"Well, but you want to buy some hooks and lines, and I shall use those as much as I like."

"Of course," said Vince, as Mike followed his example and let himself sink back on the soft turf, to lie gazing up at the blue sky overhead; "but it won't be the same. I helped poke the hole in the boat, and I mean to pay half. I tell you what: we'll pay for the damage together, and then you'll have enough left to pay for the fishing lines, and I can use them."

"Well, won't that be just the same?"

"No; of course not," said Vince. "The lines will be yours, and you won't be able to bounce about, some day when you're in an ill-temper, and say you were obliged to pay for mending the boat."

"Very well; have it that way," said Mike.

"And we ought to go over and see the old man, and tell him what we did."

"He doesn't want any telling. He has found it out long enough ago. There was the sail rolled up anyhow, too. I was too much fagged to put it straight. When shall we go and see him?"

"I dunno. I don't want to move, and I don't want to have to tell him. He'll be as savage as can be."

The boys lay perfectly still now, without speaking or moving; and the gulls came up from below, to see what was the meaning of four legs hanging over the cliff in a row, and then became more puzzled apparently on finding two bodies lying there at the edge; consequently they sailed about to and fro, with their grey backs shining as they wheeled round and gazed inquiringly down, till one, bolder than the rest, alighted about a dozen yards away.

"Keep your eyes shut, Ladle," said Vince. "Birds are coming to peck 'em out."

"They'd better not," said Mike.

"I say, couldn't we train some gulls, and harness them to a sort of chair, and make them fly with us off the cliff? They could do it if they'd only fly together. I wonder how many it would take."

"Bother the old gulls! Don't talk nonsense. When shall we go and see the old man?"

"Must do it, I suppose," said Vince. "Yes, we ought to: it's so mean to sneak out of it, else we might send him the five shillings. I hate having to go and own to it, but we must, Ladle. Let's take the dose now."

"Do what?" said Mike lazily.

"Go and take it, just as if it was salts and senna."

"Ugh!"

"Best way, and get it over. We've got to do it, and we may as well have it done."

"Yes."

"But I say, when are you going to the cave again? Not to-day?"

"No."

"To-morrow?"

"No."

"Next day?"

"Well, p'r'aps. See how I feel."

"Ready?"

"What for?"

"To go and see old Joe Daygo."

"Haven't got the money with me now."

"We'll go and fetch it, and then go to him."

Mike grunted.

"There, it's of no use to hang back, Ladle; we've got it to do, so let's get it done."

"Yes; you keep on saying we've got it to do, but you don't jump up to go and do it."

"I'm quite ready," said Vince; "and I'll jump up if you will. Now then, ready?"

"Don't bother."

"But we must go, Ladle."

"Well, I know that; but I haven't got the money, and it's so far to fetch it, and I ache all over, and I don't want to see old Joe to-day, and—"

"There, you're shirking the job," interrupted Vince.

"No, I'm not, for I want to get it over."

"Then don't stop smelling the stuff; hold your nose, tip it up, and you shall have a bit of sugar to eat after it if you're a good boy."

"Oh, Cinder, how I should like to punch your head!"

"No, you wouldn't. Come on and take your physic."

"I won't till I like. So there."

"'Cowardy, cowardy, custard, Ate his father's mustard,'" said Vince. "I say, I don't see that there was anything cowardly in eating his father's mustard. It was plucky. See how hot it must have been; but I suppose he had plenty of beef and vegetables with it. He must have had, because, if he hadn't, it would have made him sick."

"What, mustard would?" said Mike, who was quite ready to discuss anything not relating to the visit to old Daygo.

"Yes; mustard would."

"Nonsense. How do you know?"

"Father says so, and he knows all about those sort of things, including salts and senna. So now, then, old Ladle, you've got to get up and come and take your dose."

"Then I shan't take it to-day."

"And have old Joe come to us! Why, it would be disgraceful. You've got to come."

"Have I?" grumbled Mike; "then I shan't."

"'Day, young gen'lemen!"

Mike leaped to his feet in horror, and Vince pulled himself up in a sitting position, to stare wonderingly at the old fellow, who had come silently up over the yielding turf.

"You?" said Mike: "you've come?"

"Nay, I arn't, so don't you two get thinking anything o' the sort. I won't let you have it to go out alone."

"You—you won't let us have it to go out alone?" faltered Vince.

"That's it, my lad," said the old man.

"Then he hasn't found out yet," thought Vince; and he exchanged glances with Mike, who looked ready to dash off.

"Why, yer jumped up as if yer thought I was going to pitch yer off the cliff, Master Ladelle. Been asleep?"

"No, of course not," said Mike; and he looked at Vince, whose lips moved as if he were saying—"I'm going to tell him now."

"Might just as well have said 'yes' to you, though," grumbled Daygo.

"Just as well," assented Vince.

"Nice sort o' condition she's in now. One streak o' board nearly out. Cost me a good four or five shilling to get it mended, for I can't do it quite as I should like."

Four or five shillings! Just the amount Vince had thought would be enough.

"If I'd let you have it," continued the old man, "that wouldn't ha' happened. But I know: they can't cheat me. I'm a-goin' over to Jemmy Carnach to have it out with him, and first time I meets the young 'un I'm going to make him sore. See this here?"

Daygo showed his teeth in a very unpleasant grin, and drew a piece of tarry rope, about two feet long, from out of his great trousers, the said piece having had a lodging somewhere about his breast.

"Do you think Lobster—" began Vince.

"Ay, that's it: lobster," said Daygo. "Lobster it is: Jemmy Carnach would sell himself for lobster, but he arn't a-going to set his pots in my ground and go out to 'zamine 'em with my boat. I don't wish him no harm, but it would ha' been a good job if she'd sunk with him and his young cub. They're no good to the Crag—not a bit. Ay, I wish she'd sunk wi' 'em, only the boat's useful, and I should ha' had to get another."

Old Daygo ceased speaking, and after giving the rope a fierce swish through the air, as if he were hitting at Lobster's back, he put the end inside the top of his trousers, just beneath his chin, and gradually worked it down out of sight.

Vince coughed, and he was about to begin, after looking inquiringly at Mike, who shook his head, and turned it away. But Vince somehow felt as if it would be better to wait till the whole of the rope had disappeared, and Daygo had given himself a shake to make it lie comfortably. Then his lips parted; but the old man checked him by saying,—

"On'y wait till I meet young Jemmy. I've on'y got to slip my hand in here, and it's waiting for him. Yes, young gen'lemen, I'm a-going to make that chap sore as sore as sore."

"No, you're not, Joe," said Vince firmly.

"What? But I just am, my lad. If I don't lay that there piece on to his back, and make him lie down and holloa, my name arn't Daygo."

"But you are not going to thrash him, Joe," said Vince.

"Who'll stop it?"

"I will," said Vince. "It wasn't Jemmy Carnach and his boy."

"Eh? Oh yes, it was. Lobstering they were arter. I know."

"No, you do not, Joe. They didn't take it."

"What!" cried the old man. "Then who did?"

"Mike Ladelle and I."

"You did!" cried the old man, staring. "Why, I told you I wouldn't let you have it, and saw you both go home."

"But we didn't go home," said Vince. "We went and hid in the rocks, and watched till you'd gone away, and then we crept down to the boat and got her out."

"You did—you two did?" cried the old man; and his hand went into the top of his trousers.

"Yes," said Vince desperately, "and we had a long sail."

"Well!" growled the old man,—"well! And I thought it was him!"

"We're very sorry we scraped a rock, and made her leak."

"Made her leak!" roared the old man: "why, she's spyled, and I shall have to get a new boat."

"No, she isn't, Joe: you said it would cost four or five shillings to mend the hole."

"Eh? Did I?"

"Yes, you did; and Mike and I will give you five shillings to get it done."

The old man thrust out his great gnarled hand at once for the money.

"We haven't got it here, Joe," said Vince; "but we'll bring it to you to-night. Eh, Mike?"

"Yes; after tea."

"Honour?"

"Yes: honour."

"Honour bright—gen'leman's honour?"

"Yes," said Vince emphatically.

"Let him say it too," growled Daygo.

"Honour bright, Joe," said Mike.

"Oh, very well, then; I s'pose I must say no more about it," grumbled the old man; "but I'm disappynted—that I am. I thought it were they Carnachs, and I'd made up my mind to give it the young 'un and make him sore. It's such a pity, too. I cut them two feet o' rope off a ring a-purpose to lay it on to him. I owe him ever so much, and it seemed to be such a chance."

"Save it for next time, Joe," said Vince, as Mike looked on rather uneasily, for the old man kept on playing with the end of the rope.

"Eh? Save it for next time?" he said thoughtfully. "Well, I might do that, for the young 'un's sure to give me a chance, and then it won't be wasted. Yes, I'll hang it up over the fireplace at home, ready agen it's wanted. But you two'll bring me that five shilling to-night?"

"Yes, of course."

"Ay, course you will," said the old man slowly.

"There's one thing I likes in a gen'leman. Some chaps says they'll do something, or as they'll pay yer, and they swear it, and then most times they don't; but if a gen'leman says he'll do anything, there yer are, yer knows he'll do it—without a bit of swearing too. But, haw—haw— haw—haw!"

The boys stared, for the old man burst out into a tremendous roar of laughter, and kept on lifting one leg and stamping it down.

"Why, what are you laughing at?" said Mike, gaining courage now that the trouble was so amicably settled.

"What am I laughin' at?" roared the old fellow, stamping again: "why, at you two! Comes to me and wants to borrow my boat, and boasts and brags and holloas about as to how you knows everything. We can sail her, says you; we knows how to manage a boat as well as you do, and, haw, haw, haw! you helps yourselves and goes out, and brings her back with a hole in her bottom. Here! where did you go?"

"Oh, along where you took us," said Vince quickly.

"And which rock did you run on?"

"Oh, I don't know what rock it was, only that it was just under water."

"'Course not. Says to me, says you, that you knows all the rocks as well 's me, and goes and runs her on one on 'em fust time."

"Well, it was an accident, Joe."

"Ay, my lads, it were an accident; but you've got to think yourselves very lucky as she didn't founder. Did you have to bale?"

"Yes, all the way home, as hard as ever we could go."

"Ay, you would, with a hole in her like that. Well, I arn't got no time to stand a-talking to you two here; but I just tells you both this: that there boat, as soon as she's mended and fresh pitched, 'll be a-wearing a great big padlock at her stem and another at her starn.—I shall be at home all evening waitin' fer that five shilling."

He gave them both a peculiar wink, stood for a few moments shading his eyes and looking out to sea, and then, giving his head a solemn shake, he went off without another word.

"Feel better, Mike?" said Vince, as soon as the old man was out of hearing.

"Better? Ever so much. I'm glad we've got it over. I say, Cinder, nothing like tipping off your dose of physic at once."

"But I had to take it," cried Vince. "You wouldn't do your share."

That evening after tea they kept their word. Vince handed Mike his two-and-fourpence-halfpenny, and Mike gave him the five shillings which he was to pay.

They found the old man standing outside his cottage, with his old spy-glass under his arm, waiting for them, and apparently he had been filling up the time by watching three or four vessels out in the offing.

"Let's have a look, Joe," said Vince, as soon as the business was over and the money lodged in a pocket, access to which was obtained by the old man throwing himself to the left nearly off his balance, and crooking his arm high up till he could get his fingers into the opening.

The telescope was handed rather reluctantly, and Vince focussed it to suit his sight as he brought it to bear on one of the vessels.

"Brig, isn't she, Joe?" said Vince.

"Ay, my lad; looks like a collier."

"Schooner," said Vince; and then, running the glass along the horizon, he took a long look at a small, smart-looking vessel in full sail, her canvas being bright in the evening glow.

"Why, she's a cutter!" said Vince, rather excitedly: "Revenue cutter."

"Nay, nay, my lad, only a yawrt."

"I don't think she is, Joe; I believe it's a king's ship."

"Tchah! what would she be doing yonder?"

"I don't know," said Vince.

"Done with my glass?" growled the old man.

"Directly," replied Vince; and he swept the sea again.

"Hullo!" he said suddenly: "Frenchman."

"Eh? Where?" said Daygo quickly.

"Right away, miles off the North Point."

The old man took the glass, altered the focus again, and took a long, searching look.

"Bah!" he exclaimed; "that's not a Frenchman, my lads," and he closed the glass with a smart crack. "I say, lookye here."

He led the way to the door, grinning tremendously, and pointed in to where, hanging over the fireplace, was the piece of well-tarred rope, hanging by a loop made of fishing line.

"Ready when wanted—eh?"

The boys laughed and went off soon after towards home.

"Five shillings worse off," said Mike, when they parted for the night; "but I'm glad we got out of all that so easily.—I say, Cinder!"

"Well?"

"It would have been rather awkward if he'd taken it the other way and been in a rage."

"Very," said Vince, before whose eyes the two feet of rope seemed to loom out of the evening gloom.

"And it would have been all your fault."

"Yes," said Vince shortly. "Good-night: I want to get home."

They parted, and as he walked back Vince could not help thinking a good deal about the previous afternoon's experience, and he shook his head more than once before beginning to think of the cavern.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

FRESH PULLS FROM THE MAGNET.

A week elapsed; the weather had been stormy, and a western gale had brought the sea into a furious state, making the waves deluge the huge western cliffs, and sending the churned-up foam flying over the edge and inland like dingy balls of snow.

And the boys were kept in by the gale?

Is it likely? The more fiercely the wind blew, the more heavily the huge Atlantic waves thundered against the cliffs and sent the spray flying up in showers, the more they were out on the cliffs searching the dimly seen horizon, watching to see if any ship was in danger.

But it was rare for a ship to be seen anywhere near Cormorant Crag when a sou'-wester blew. Its rocks and fierce currents were too well known to the hardy mariner, who shook his head and fought his way outward into deep water if he could not reach a port, sooner than be anywhere near that dangerous rock-strewn shore.

Vince and Mike had long known that when the wind was at its highest, and it was hard work to stand against it, there was little danger in being near the edge of some perpendicular precipice, and that there, with the rock-face fully exposed to the gale, and the huge waves rushing in to leap against the towering masses with a noise like thunder, they could sit down in comparative shelter, and gaze with feelings akin to awe at the tumult below.

Why? For the simple reason that, after striking against a high, flat surface, the swift current of air must go somewhere. It cannot turn back and meet the winds following it, neither can it dive into the sea. It can only go upward, and sweeps several feet beyond the edge of the cliff before it curves over and continues its furious journey over the land, leaving at the brink a spot that is undisturbed.

These places were favoured always by the boys, who would generally be the only living creatures visible, the birds having at the first breaking out of the storm hastened to shelter themselves on the other side of the island.

"Sea's pretty busy cave-making to-day," said Vince, on one of these stormy mornings. "I wonder what it's like in the cave in front of our place."

"All smooth, of course," said Mike. "It's on the other side, and it's shut-in, so I daresay it doesn't make a bit of difference there. I say, oughtn't we to go there again?"

"You want to open some of those packages," said Vince, as he reached his head a little way over the side of the cliff to gaze down at an enormous roller that came plunging through the outlying rocks a couple of hundred feet below. "Well, what of that?"

"Phew! My!" cried Vince, drawing back breathlessly and wiping the blinding spray from his face. "You can't do that, Ladle. I believe you might try to jump down there and find you couldn't. The wind would pitch you up again and throw you over into the fields."

"Shouldn't like to try it," said Mike drily. "But I say, why shouldn't I want to open the bales and kegs and see what's in them?"

"Because they belong to somebody else, as I told you before."

"If they belong to anybody at all they belong to my father, and he wouldn't mind my opening them."

"Don't know so much about that," said Vince stolidly. "I'll ask him."

"No, no; don't do that," cried Mike, in alarm; "you'll spoil all the fun."

"Very well, then: you ask him what he thinks, then we should know."

"There's plenty of time for that. I never did see such a fellow as you are, Cinder. What's the matter with you?"

"Wet," said Vince. "It was just as if some one with an enormous bucket had dashed water into my face."

"Then you shouldn't have looked over. You might have known how it would be. But look here: never mind the sea."

"But I do mind it. Hear that? Oh, what a tremendous thud that wave came with!"

"Well, of course it did."

"Wonder how many years it will be before the sea washes the Crag all away."

"What nonsense!"

"It isn't. I was talking to Mr Deane about it the other day, and he says it is only a question of time."

"What, before the Crag's washed away? I should think it would be. I'll tell you the proper answer to that—Never."

"Oh, indeed," said Vince: "then how about the caves in under here? Haven't they all been hollowed out, and aren't they always getting bigger? That's how those on the other side must have been made. I shouldn't wonder if they are full of water now."

"What, with all those things in!" said Mike, in alarm. "Oh, I don't believe that. When shall we go and see?"

"It would be horrible to go across the common on a day like this, and we should be soaked getting through the ferns and brambles."

"Yes; it wouldn't be nice now. But will you come first fine afternoon?"

"Well, I don't know."

"Oh, I say," cried Mike reproachfully—"you are getting to be a fellow! You thought the caves grand at first."

"So I did, when we could go there and fish, and cook our tea, and eat it, and enjoy ourselves like Robinson Crusoe; but when it comes to finding the other cave and all that stuff there, it makes one uncomfortable like, and I don't care so much about going."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I can't explain it, but it seems queer, and as if we ought to tell my father or yours. I felt like you do at first, and it seemed as if we'd found a treasure and were going to be very rich."

"So we have, and so we are," said Mike. "I don't see why you should turn cowardly about it."

"I didn't know that it was cowardly to want to be honest," said Vince quietly.

"Only hark at him!" cried Mike, as the waves came thundering in, and the wind roared over them. "You are the most obstinate chap that ever was. Why won't you see things in the right light? Don't those things belong to my father?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. If they were brought and hidden there a hundred years ago, and everybody who brought 'em is dead, as they're on father's land, mustn't they be his?"

"Or the king's."

"The king don't want them, I know. By rights they're my father's, but he won't mind our doing what we like with them, as we were the finders. Now then, don't be snobby; will you come first fine afternoon?"

Vince was silent.

"I won't ask you to meddle with anything—only to keep it all quiet."

Vince picked up a stone and threw it from him, so that it should fall down into the raging billows below, but he made no reply.

"I say, why don't you speak?" cried Mike.

"Who's to talk here in this noise, with the wind blowing your words away?"

"You could just as easily have said you would come as have said that," shouted Mike.

"All right, then, I'll come," said Vince; and Mike gave him a hearty slap on the back. "But look here, Mikey," he continued, "don't you ever think about it?"

"About what?"

"The caves, and all that."

"Of course I do: I hardly think of anything else."

"Yes; but I mean about that young Carnach watching us and old Joe hanging about after us."

"Thought it rather queer once or twice, but of course it was only because we were so suspicious. If we hadn't had the cave and been afraid of any one knowing our secret, we might have met them a hundred times and never thought they were watching us."

"Yes, we might," said Vince thoughtfully. "I don't know, though: they certainly did watch us."

"Then, if they did, it was because we looked as if we wanted to hide something."

"Yes, that sounds right," said Vince. "I never looked at it in that way, and it has bothered me a good deal. Why, of course that is it! I'm all right now, and I'll go with you whenever you like; only we ought to tell them soon. We have known it all to ourselves for some time now."

"Very well, then, we'll tell them soon; and I know my father will say that all the treasure there is to be divided between us two."

"Will he?" said Vince, laughing, for he was far from taking so sanguine a view of the case as his companion; and the matter dropped. They stopped watching the roll and impact of the waves till they were tired, and then went home to wait for the fair weather, which was to usher in their next visit to the caves.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE MYSTERY UNROLLS.

Four more days passed before the weather broke, and then two more when they were not at liberty. But at last came one when their tutor announced that they could have the whole day to themselves, and it was not long before each announced at home that he was off out for a good long cliff ramble.

This meant taking a supply of provisions, with which each was soon furnished, so as not to break into the holiday by having to come back to dinner.

No questions were asked, for it was taken for granted, both at the Mount and at the Doctor's cottage, that they would be going fishing or collecting; and the boys set off in high glee, meaning to supplement their dinner with freshly cooked fish, and plenty of excitement by climbing about the rocks at the entrance of the caves.

Everything seemed gloriously fresh and bright after the late rains: the birds were circling overhead, and the sea was of a wonderfully vivid blue. In fact, so bright was the day that Vince said,—

"I say, isn't it a shame to go and bury ourselves underground?"

"Not a bit of it," cried Mike; "it's glorious! Why, it's a regular treat, after being away so long. Have you enough wood for cooking?"

"Plenty."

"And what about water?"

"We took a big bottle full last time."

"That's right. I say, keep your eyes open. See anything of old Joe Daygo? Don't seem to be looking on purpose."

They both kept their eyes well open, but there was no sign of the old fisherman; and before long the reason why was plain, for on their coming a little nearer to the cliff edge, on their way to where they struck off for the oak wood, Vince suddenly pointed outward:—

"There he goes."

"Who?" said Mike.

"Old Joe. He has got his boat mended, then."

"That can't be his boat."

"It is. Why, look at that patch on the sail. It's a long way off, but I'm sure it's the boat. He's gone out a long way, seemingly."

"Yes: going out to the sands, I suppose, to try if he can't get some soles."

"Well, we shan't have him playing the spy to-day," said Vince, who was in capital spirits. "Now, if we could see old Lobster going too, we should be all right."

"I dare say his father's got him hoeing carrots or something. We shan't see him."

They did not see Jemmy Carnach's hopeful son, nor any other living being but a cow, which raised its soft eyes to gaze at them sadly, and remained looking after them till they plunged into the scrub-wood, and, once there, felt safe. Then, after their usual laborious work beneath the trees, they reached the granite wilderness, clambered in and out and over the great blocks, keeping an eye as much as they could on the ridge up to their right, in case of the Lobster being there, and finally reached the opening, jumped down through the brambles, and at once made for the spot where the lanthorn and tinder-box were stowed.

"I say, isn't it jolly?" cried Mike eagerly. "Just like old times, getting back here again. What a while it seems!"

"Yes, it does seem a good while," said Vince, beginning to strike a light. "I hope nothing has happened since we were here."

"Eh?" cried Mike excitedly. "What can have happened?"

"Sea washed the place out, and taken all our kitchen and parlour things away."

"Nonsense!" said Mike contemptuously. "Oh, it might, you know; there would have been no waves, but there might have been a high tide. There must have been tremendously high tides down there at one time, so as to have washed out those caves."

"Ah! it's a precious long time since they've been washed out, I know," said Mike, laughing. "They don't ever get swept out now."

"No, but they're kept neat, with sand on the floor," said Vince, snapping to the door of the lanthorn and holding it up for the soft yellow light to shine upon the granite walls. "I say, Mike, don't you think we're a pair of old stupids to make all this fuss over a hole in the ground?"

"No: why should we be?"

"Because it doesn't seem any good. Here we take all this trouble hiding away and going down the hole like worms, so as to crawl about there in the sand."

"And what about the beautiful caves, and the rocks where we sit and watch the sea-birds?"

"We could see them just as well off the cliffs."

"But the cove with the great walls of rock all round, and the current racing round like a whirlpool?"

"Plenty of currents and eddies anywhere off the coast."

"But the fishing?"

"We could fish in easier places," said Vince, talking loudly now they were well down in the passage. "Why, we've had better luck everywhere than here."

"Oh, you are a discontented chap!" said Mike. "You ought to think yourself wonderfully well off, to be able to come down to such a place. See what jolly feasts we've had down here all alone."

"Yes, but it seems to me sometimes like nonsense to be cooking potatoes and frying fish down in a cave, when we could sit comfortably at a table at your house or ours, and have no trouble at all."

"Well, you are a fellow!" cried Mike. "You said one day that the fish we cooked down there tasted twice as good as it did at home."

"Yes, I did one day when we hadn't got it smoky."

"We don't often get it smoky," protested Mike. "But I say, don't talk like that. You were as eager to make our little secret place there as I was. You don't mean to say you're getting tired of it?"

"I don't know," said Vince. "Yes, I do. No, I'm not getting tired of it yet, for it does seem very jolly, as you say, when we do get down here all alone, and feel as if we were thousands of miles from everywhere. But I shall get tired of it some day. I don't think it's half so good since we found the way into the other cave."

"I do," said Mike. "It's splendid to have made such a discovery, and to find that once upon a time there were pirates or smugglers here."

Meanwhile they were slowly descending the bed of the ancient underground rivulet, so familiar with every turn and hollow that they knew exactly where to place their feet when they reached the little falls, and never thinking of stopping to examine the pot-holes, where the great rounded boulders, that had turned and turned by the force of the falling water, still remained. Vince's light danced about in the darkness like a large glowworm, and Mike followed it, humming a tune, whistling, or making a few remarks from time to time; but he was very thoughtful all the same, as his mind dwelt upon the packages in the far cavern, and he felt the desire to examine them increase, till he was quite in a state of fever.

"Pretty close, aren't we?" said Mike at last, to break the silence of the gloomy tunnel.

"Yes, we shall be there in five minutes now. But, I say, suppose we find that some one has been since we were here?"

"Well, whoever it was, couldn't have taken the caves away."

"No; but if Lobster has found out the way down?—and I dare say he has, after tumbling into the front hall."

"'Tisn't the front hall," said Mike laughingly; "it's the back door. Front hall's down by the sea, where the seal cave is."

"Have it which way you like," said Vince, giving the lanthorn a swing, "but it seems to me most like the back attic window. I say, though, if Lobster has found it out, he'll have devoured every scrap we left there, and, I daresay, carried off the fishing tackle and pans."

"A thief! He'd better not," cried Mike.

"Ha—ha—ha!" laughed Vince. "I do call that good."

"What? I don't know what you mean."

"Your calling him a thief for taking away the things he discovered there."

"Well, so he would be. They're not his."

"No," said Vince, laughing; "and those things in the far cavern aren't ours, but you want to take them."

"That's different," said Mike hastily. "We only put our things there a few weeks ago; those bales and barrels have been there perhaps hundreds of years."

"Say thousands while you're about it, Ladle," cried Vince cheerily. "Hold hard. Puff!"

The candle was blown out through a hole in the lanthorn, and the latter lowered down to the usual niche close to the cavern wall, where they were accustomed to keep it.

"Down with you!" cried Vince; and Mike required no second telling, but glided down the slope so sharply that he rolled over in the sand at the bottom.

"Below!" shouted Vince; and he charged down after him, sitting on his heels, and also having his upset. "I say, though, I hope no one has been."

They walked across the deep, yielding sand, with the soft pearly light playing on the ceiling; peered through into the outer cave; and then Mike, who was first, darted back, for there was a loud splash and the sound as of some one wallowing through the water at the cave mouth.

"Only a seal," cried Vince. "There goes another."

He ran forward over the sand in time to see a third pass out of a low, dark archway at the right of the place where the clear water was all in motion from the powerful creatures swimming through.

"I say, Mike, why don't we take the light some day and wade in there to see how far it goes?" said Vince, as he looked curiously at the doorway of what was evidently a regular seal's lurking-place.

"Because it's wet and dark; and how do we know that we could wade in there?"

"Because you can see the rock bottom. It's shallow as shallow."

"And how do you know that it doesn't go down like a wall as soon as you get in?"

"We could feel our way with a stick, step by step; or, I know, we'd get the rope—bring a good long one—and I'd fasten it round your waist and stand at the door and send you in. Of course I'd soon pull you out if you went down."

"Thank you," cried Mike, "you are kind. My mother said you were such a nice boy, Cinder, and she was glad I had you for a companion, as the Crag was so lonely. You are a very nice boy, 'pon my word."

"Yes; I wouldn't let you drown," said Vince.

"Thank ye. I say, Cinder, when you catch me going into a place like that, just you tell me of it, there's a good fellow."

Vince laughed.

"Why, who knows what's in there?" said Mike, with a shiver.

"Ah! who knows?" said Vince merrily. "I tell you what it is, Ladle: that must be the place where the things live that old Joe talked about."

"What things?"

"Those that take hold of a boat under water, and pull it along till it can't come back and is never heard of again."

"Ah, you may grin, Cinder," said Mike seriously; "but, do you know, I thought all that when we were out yonder in the boat. It felt just as if some great fish had seized it and was racing it along as hard as it could, and more than once I fancied we should never get back."

"Did you?" said Vince quietly.

"Yes, you needn't sneer. You're such a wooden-headed, solid chap, nothing ever shakes you; but it was a very awful sensation."

"I wasn't sneering," said Vince, "because I felt just the same."

"You did?"

"Yes, that I did, and though I wanted to laugh at it because it was absurd, I couldn't then. But, I say, though, we might try and get to the end of that cave, just to see how far it goes."

"Ugh! It's bad enough going through a dark hole with a stone floor."

"Till you're used to it. See how we came down this morning."

"Yes, but we weren't wading through cold, black water, with all kinds of live things waiting to make a grab at you."

"Nonsense! If there were any things there they'd soon scuttle out of our way."

"Ah, you don't know," said Mike. "In a place like this they grow big because they're not interfered with. Those were the biggest seals I ever saw."

"Yes, they were tidy ones. The biggest, I think."

"Yes, and there may be suckers there. Ugh! fancy one of those things getting one of his eight legs, all over suckers, round you, and trying to pull you into his hole."

"Take out your knife and cut the arm off. They're not legs."

"I don't know what they are: just as much legs as arms. They walk on 'em. Might be lobsters and crabs, too, as big as we are. Think of one of them giving you a nip!"

"Wish he would," said Vince, with a grin. "We'd soon have him out and cook him."

"Couldn't," said Mike. "Take too big a pot."

"Then we'd roast him; and, I say, fancy asking Jemmy Carnach down to dinner!"

"Yes," cried Mike, joining in the laugh. "He'd eat till his eyes would look lobstery too, and your father would have to give him such a dose."

"It don't want my father to cure Jemmy Carnach when he's ill," said Vince scornfully. "I could do that easy enough."

"And how would you do it, old clever?"

"Tie him up for two or three days without anything to eat. Pst! Hear that?"

"Yes," said Mike, in a whisper, as a peculiar hollow plashing sound arose some distance down the low dark passage, and the water at the mouth became disturbed. "Shoal of congers, perhaps—monsters."

"Pooh! It was another seal coming out till it saw or heard us, and then it gave a wallop and turned back. Look here, I'll wade in this afternoon if you will."

Mike spun round on his heels. "No, thank you," he cried. "Come on, and let's look round to see if all's right."

A few minutes proved that everything was precisely as they had left it; and as soon as they had come to this conclusion, they found themselves opposite the fissure which led into the other cavern.

Mike glanced at the rope and grapnel, and then back inquiringly at his companion.

"No!" said Vince, answering the unspoken question that he could plainly read in Mike's eyes; "we can have a good afternoon without going there."

"How? What are we going to do?"

"Fish," said Vince shortly.

"But I should like to go and see if everything is there just the same as it was."

"If it has been there for a hundred years, as you say, it's there all right still. Come on."

"But I should just like to have a peep in one or two of the packages, Cinder."

"Yes, I know you would; but you promised not to want to meddle, or I wouldn't have come. Now didn't you?"

"All right," said Mike sulkily; "but I did think you were a fellow who had more stuff in you. There, you won't do anything adventurous."

"Yes, I will," cried Vince quickly: "I'll get the lanthorn and go and explore the seal's hole, if you'll come."

"And get bitten to death by the brutes. No, thankye."

"Bitten to death! Just as if we couldn't settle any number of seals with sticks or conger clubs!"

"Ah, well, you go and settle 'em, and call me when you've done."

"No need to. You wouldn't let me go alone. Now then, we'll get some fish, and have a good fry."

Vince ran to the wall, where their lines hung upon a peg; and now they noticed, for the first time, that there had been a high tide during the late storm, for the sand had been driven up in a ridge at one side of the cave mouth, but had only come in some twenty or thirty feet.

Their baits, in a box pierced with holes to let the water in and out, were quite well and lively; and putting some of these in a tray, they went cautiously out from rock to rock in the wide archway till there was deep water just beyond for quite another twenty feet; then rocks again, and beyond them the gurgling rush and hurry of the swift currents, while the pool before them, though in motion, looked smooth and still, save that a close inspection showed that the surface was marked with the lines of a gentle current, which apparently rose from below the rocks on the right.

It was an ideal place for sea-fishing, for the great deep pool was free from rocks save those which surrounded it, and not a thread of weed or wrack to be seen ready to entangle their lines or catch their hooks; while they knew from old experience that it was the sheltered home of large shoals, which sought it as a sanctuary from the seals or large fish which preyed upon them.

In addition, the place they stood upon was a dry, rocky platform, shut off from the cave by a low ridge, against which they could lean their backs, whilst another much lower ridge was just in front, as if on purpose to hide them from the fish in the crystal water of the great pool.

Partly behind them and away to their right was the entrance to the seals' hole, from which came a hollow splashing from time to time, as something moved; every sound making Mike turn his head quickly in that direction, and bringing a smile to Vince's lips.

"Ah! it's all very well," said Mike sourly, "but everybody isn't so brave as you are."

"Might as well have lit our fire before we came here," said Vince, ignoring the remark.

"What's the good of lighting the fire till we know whether we shall get any fish?" said Mike. "We didn't catch one last time, though you could see hundreds."

"To boil the kettle and make some tea," replied Vince; and he rose to get hold of the bait, pausing to look back over the ridge which shut him off from the cave, and hesitating.

"I think I'll go back and light the fire," he said, as he fixed his eyes on the dark spot which they made their fireplace, it looking almost black from the bright spot they occupied, which was as far as they could get out towards the open cove.

"No, no; sit down," said Mike impatiently. "We didn't catch any last time because you would keep dancing about on the rocks here, and showing the fish that you were come on purpose to hook them. We can get a good fire in a few minutes. There's plenty of wood, and we're in no hurry."

"You mean you kept dancing about," retorted Vince. "Very well," he added, seating himself, "it shan't be me, Ladle: I won't stir. But it's the wrong time for them. If we were to come here just before daylight, or to stop till it was dark, we should be hauling them out as fast as we could throw in our—our"—splash—"lines."

For as Vince spoke he had resumed his seat, deftly placed a lug-worm on his hook and thrown the lead into the water, where it sank rapidly, drawing after it the line over the low ridge of rock.

"There," said Vince, as his companion followed his example, "I won't move, and I won't make a sound."

"Don't," said Mike: "I do want to catch something this time."

"All right: I won't speak if you don't."

"First who speaks pays sixpence," said Mike.

"Agreed. Silence!"

The fishing began, but fishing did not mean catching, and the time went on with nothing to take their attention but an unusual clamouring on the part of the sea-birds, which, instead of sitting about preening and drying their plumage, or with their feathers almost on end, till they looked like balls as they sat asleep in the sun, kept on rising in flights, making a loud fluttering whistling as they swept round and round the cove, constantly passing out of sight before swooping down again upon the great rocks which shut out the view of the open sea.

Lines were drawn up, rebaited, and thrown in again, with the faint splashes made by the leads, and they tried close in to the side, to the other side, to right and left; but all in vain,—the baits were eaten off, and they felt that something was at their hooks, but whether they struck directly, or gave plenty of time, it was always the same, nothing was taken and the hours passed away.

They were performing, though, what was for them quite a feat, for each boy had fully made up his mind that he would not have to pay that sixpence. They looked at each other, and laughingly grimaced, and moved their lips rapidly, as if forming words, and abused the fish silently for not caring to be caught, but not a word was spoken; till all at once, after a tremendous display of patience, Vince suddenly struck and cried:

"Got him at last!"

"Sixpence!" said Mike.

"All right!" said Vince quietly: "I was ready to pay ninepence so as to say something. I've got him, though, and he's a big one too."

"Be steady, then. Don't lose him, for I'm sick of trying, and I did want for us to have something for tea."

"Oh, I've hooked him right enough; but he don't stir."

"Bah! Caught in the bottom."

"Oh no, I'm not. He was walking right away with the bait, and when I struck I felt him give a regular good wallop."