"No, sir; but I am in such a strange position."

"You are, my lad; but you see your father has always had the worthy ambition to give his son a good education, and make him something better than he has been himself."

"Yes, sir, but--"

"Hear me out, Bigley. It has been my misfortune twice over to give him deadly offence, and the last time he visited it upon me by giving information to the French, which led to, as you call it, my serious losses."

"Yes, sir," cried Bigley, "and I am miserable. I feel as if I could not look you in the face."

"Why not?" said my father kindly. "Yours is a good, frank, honest face, my lad, and you have always been my boy's companion and friend. Come, come, no more of this nonsense. I have right on my side, and some day your father will awaken to the fact that the information I gave was given in the way of duty, and have a better opinion of me. As to you--"

"I must go, sir--I must go," cried Bigley, "I cannot stay here any longer."

"No, you must not go," said my father firmly. "It is evidently your father's wish that you should stay, or he would say so when he sends you money so regularly. There, come, we'll say that he has done me a great deal of injury, and caused me a very heavy loss."

"Yes, sir, that is always on my mind."

"And that kept you from getting better, my lad. So now I'm going to make a bargain with you. Get quite strong again, as I hope to be myself before long, and come and help us at the mine to recover the lost ground again."

"May I?" cried Bigley eagerly.

"Of course," said my father; and as I saw quite a cloud disappear from poor Bigley's countenance, I tossed up my cap and cried, "Hurrah!"

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

BIGLEY MAKES A DISCOVERY.

The time glided on and the war did not trouble us, for we were too busy in the Gap, where everything had been restored and even improved, and my father was fighting bravely to recover from the terrible loss the French descent had caused to the property, for the rebuilding of cottages and repairs of machinery, after the store of silver had been taken, left him very much impoverished; but, as he used to say, it was only a question of time to get right.

Bigley worked regularly with me, living at the smuggler's cottage with Mother Bonnet for his housekeeper; and he used to hear regularly from his father, who expressed no intention of ever returning, merely saying that he was glad that his son was doing so well, and quite accepting the position. He used to send money, but now Bigley had ceased to use it, for he received a regular payment from my father, and this other money used to be sent to a bank.

The mine was fairly productive, but I knew that my father had been compelled to borrow a good deal, and this preyed upon his mind so much that one day he said to me:

"Sep, I think I shall be obliged to sell the Gap, with the mine and all it holds. I don't like this life of debt, and the prospect of years of toil before I can clear it off."

"But it would be such a pity, father," I exclaimed.

"It would, my boy, but I am not so sanguine as I was. That terrible night shook me a great deal, and if it were not for the thought of you I should give up at once."

He repeated this to me two or three times, and it made a very unpleasant impression that troubled me a very great deal.

Bob Chowne, who was shortly going up to London to study at one of the hospitals, came over one evening, and we all three, as in the old days, had tea at the smuggler's cottage, Mother Bonnet beaming upon us, and never looking so pleased as when we wanted more of one of her home-made loaves.

Then after tea we decided, as the sea was so calm, to have a few hours'

fishing, and taking the boat we rowed out as far as the Goat and Kids, the grapnel was thrown out, and we began to fish.

It was a glorious evening, and we took rock-whiting, pout, and small conger at such a rate that I cried, "Hold, enough!"

"No, no, keep on," said Bob Chowne. "Let's see how many we can catch."

"It will be a good feast for the work-people," said Bigley, as I hesitated; and knowing how glad they all were of a bit of fish I turned to again, throwing in my baited hooks, and hauling in the fine fellows every minute or two.

But at last the darkness forbade further work, so the lines were reeled-up, the fish counted over into the two baskets, and Bigley proceeded to haul up the grapnel.

The intention was good, but the grapnel refused to be hauled up. The boat's bows were dragged right over it, and Bigley stood up and tugged till the boat was perceptibly pulled down, but not an inch would the grapnel budge.

"It has got between a couple of rocks, I suppose," said Bigley.

"Here, stand aside!" cried Bob Chowne, "let the doctor come."

He caught hold of the stout line, stood in Bigley's place, and hauled till his wrists ached.

"Here, come and pull, Sep," he cried; and I joined him and hauled, but in vain.

Then we changed the position of the boat, and dragged and jerked in one direction and then in another. Every way we could think of did we try, but could not stir the anchor, and as we were giving up in despair Bob said:

"I know; some big sea-monster has swallowed the hook and he won't move.

Here, let's get ash.o.r.e."

"But we must not lose a new grapnel," cried Bigley. "Here, I know what we'll do."

He hastily unfastened the rope from the ring-bolt in the bows, and secured it to the boat-hook by a hitch or two, and then cast it overboard.

"There!" he said; "that will buoy it, and I'll come out to-morrow and get it up somehow."

Then taking the oars he rowed us ash.o.r.e, where a couple of the mine men were smoking their pipes and shining like glowworms as they waited to see what sport we had had.

The news spread respecting our exceptionally good fortune; and as soon as the two men had helped to haul the boat right up beyond the reach of the tide, as the grapnel was gone, they ran up to the miners' village and came trooping back with the rest, armed with baskets, dishes, and in some cases only bare-handed, to receive their portions of our big haul.

They gave us a cheer, and soon afterwards we parted, Bob Chowne to sleep at the smuggler's cottage, while I went back to the Bay.

I woke at daylight next morning, and not feeling disposed to sleep, I dressed and started off for the Gap to rouse up Bigley and Bob and propose a bathe; but as I came in sight of the Gap mouth I found Bigley already astir and just going down to the boat.

I shouted and ran down to him waving my towel, to which he answered by waving another, showing that he had risen with a similar idea to my own.

"I thought I would have a bathe, and do some business too," he said; and then, in answer to my inquiring look, "Try and get up the grapnel," he added.

"Oh!" I exclaimed; "but why didn't you rouse up Bob?"

"Rouse up Bob!" he said gruffly. "Go and try and rouse up that block of stone!"

"What! Have you tried?" I said.

"Tried! I've shaken him, and punched him, and done everything I could but drenched him, and that would be a pity. He don't want to get up; so let him lie. Here, help me run the boat down."

I laid hold of one side, we balanced her on an even keel, and as it was down a steep slope we soon ran her into the water, jumped aboard, and began paddling out down the narrow part that formed the bed of the river on the seaward side of the pebble ridge.