"b.u.t.ter!" cried d.i.c.k, who had already eaten two semicircles out of a slice; "why, it's glorious! We never get such b.u.t.ter in London."

"But you sighed," said the old lady, bridling, while Uncle Abram wrinkled his forehead and shook his head at Will.

"Did I?" said d.i.c.k, colouring a little more deeply. "Well, it was because I wished Taff was here."

"What, is that your dog?" said the old lady, smiling again.

"No!" cried d.i.c.k, laughing; "it's my brother Arthur. I always call him Taff, because--because--I don't know why, but I generally call him Taff."

"I'm sure we should be very pleased to see the young gentleman," said Aunt Ruth in the most stately manner; and then poor Taff was forgotten, from the fact that, after well a.s.sisting the guest, Uncle Abram and Will set such an example in the way of eating that it proved contagious, and d.i.c.k was soon proving himself no mean trencherman, while he fully realised the wisdom of the old sailor in always having "a good bit o'

salt provision in cut."

When they rose from the table Aunt Ruth was quite sure that her visitor had not had half a tea, which words were comforting to d.i.c.k, whose conscience, now that he had eaten, was beginning to smite him for behaving so voraciously at these strangers' table--unnecessary qualms, for his performance had been very mild compared to that of the purser, who shook hands warmly when his guest took leave, Mrs Marion supplementing her good-bye with a warm invitation to come again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

d.i.c.k TEMPLE TAKES A LESSON IN FINDING HIS BEARINGS BEFORE THE BOLTER IS LAID.

"So your father has to do with mines, has he?" said Will rather eagerly, as the two lads walked down towards the little harbour.

"Yes, and I'm going to be a mining engineer," said d.i.c.k. "I say, I wish I was a fisherman--boy, I mean!"

"And I wish I was going to be a mining engineer," said Will, smiling sadly.

"Why, it isn't half such fun!" cried d.i.c.k. "You have to learn all sorts of stuff about rocks and strata, and chemistry, and mechanics, and hydro-all-sorts-of-things. I say, do you ever see sharks down here?"

"Not very often," said Will. "I never did see one. Josh hooked one once with his gaff, after it had taken a conger bait."

"Oh, did he? Tell me all about it."

"There isn't much all to tell," replied Will. "Josh was out in the boat, fishing off the rocks with a mate--out yonder, where you can see the cliff with the white patch on the top--Poldee."

"Yes, I see."

"Well, they couldn't catch a single conger, and they were going to give it up, when Josh's mate had a bite; and when he began to pull up, he thought it was a conger, but only a very small one; and then, when they got it to the top of the water they stared, for it was--how much do you think?"

"Forty feet!" cried Will eagerly.

"No, no!" said Will smiling; "they thought it was about six."

"Oh, that isn't big!" said d.i.c.k in disappointed tones.

"Not big! What, a fish the size of a tall man, and ten times as strong in the water! Not big! We think it very big down here."

"Well, go on," said d.i.c.k.

"Oh, there's no more to tell; only that Josh took up the gaff and got hold of the shark, which gave one flash with his tail and went down again, taking with it Josh's gaff-hook and the conger-line, and that was all."

"Oh!" said d.i.c.k in a disappointed tone. "They ought to have caught it."

"Yes," said Will dryly; "they ought to have caught it, but they did not.

There's Josh already in the boat. I wonder whether he thought of a line to whiff."

"To whiff? what's that--to make cigars?"

"No, no!" said Will as they went along the pier. "I'll show you when we get on board.--Think of a line to whiff, Josh?"

"Ay, lad; I thought young master there might like to try as we went out."

"This way," said Will, pausing in front of the lugger, which was now very little below the edge of the pier, as the tide was flowing fast.

"Shall I help you?"

"Oh no!" cried d.i.c.k, leaping aboard; and then actively lowering himself into the lugger's boat, a short, broad, heavy affair, wherein sat Josh, with the long-line and box of bait.

"You sit down there--aft," said Josh, "and we'll soon row you out."

"Is it far?" cried d.i.c.k.

"'Bout three mile," replied Josh, taking up an oar and pushing the boat away from the side of the lugger, Will following his example, and getting an oar over the side.

"Stop! Look, look, look!" cried d.i.c.k, pointing out in front of them, where, through the water, there about eighteen inches deep, he could see what seemed to be a long white worm or serpent dashing here and there in a curious way. "There's another and another!"

"That's only the cleanings of the fish," said Will; "intestines, don't you call 'em? That's a shoal of small fish come into the harbour, only they're so clear you can't make 'em out; and first one lays hold of one end and runs off with it, and then another. Looks just like little snakes darting about, don't it?"

"Why, so it is," said d.i.c.k. "I can see the little rascals swimming about, and drawing the long white strings after them. Oh, I say, I wish Taff were here!"

"Look there!" said Will, eager to show the stranger all the peculiarities of the place; "do you see that?"

He was pointing to a shallow part, close insh.o.r.e, just after they had left the harbour, where a drain ran down, and the smooth black water-polished rock was veined with white spar.

"I can see something shadowy-like in the water. Why, there was a fish went over that white place--two--three--there's a whole shoal of them!"

"Grey mullet, nearly as long as your arm!" said Will.

"Got a line? Oh, I wish I had my fishing-rod! Let's try for them."

"No use," said Will; "they very seldom take a bait. I don't like them; they're nasty fish. They come up to feed off the mouth of that dirty drain."

"We'll ketch something better than them as soon as we get outside," said Josh, bending to his oar, Will following suit, and the water began to rattle under the blunt bow of the heavy boat as they sent it speedily along.

"What are all those little tubs for?" said d.i.c.k as they threaded their way amongst a number lying a short distance outside the harbour.

"Buoys?"

"Yes," said Will; "anchor buoys, to make fast the luggers to when they have been out fishing, and are coming into the harbour in fine weather."

They were now leaving the village behind, and it looked like a panoramic picture lit up by the sinking sun, with the tall cliff to left and right, and the hills rising in a steep slope behind. Eight away over the bay the rippling water was stained with the reflection of the western sky, and the sides of the waves glistened with orange, and blue, and gold.