"G'way!"
He advanced unsteadily towards the edge of the basin, not perceiving, or at any rate not recognising the children, though close to them.
"Let my cap be'ind," he grumbled; "elst they stole it."
He drew himself up at the water's edge, a dozen yards or so wide of the Severn Belle's stern.
"Oh, Bill!" Tilda flung herself before him as he stood swaying.
"'Ullo!" He recognised her slowly. "And wot might you be doin' 'ere? Come to remember, saw you yesterday—you and your frien'. Yes, o' course—ver' glad t' meet yer—an' yer friend—any friend o' yours welcome, 'm sure."
He stretched out a hand of cordiality towards Arthur Miles.
"Oh, Bill—we've been countin' on yer so—me an' 'Dolph. This is Arthur Miles, an' I've told 'im all along as you're the best and 'elpfullest o' men—an' so you are, if you pull yerself together. 'E only wants to get to a place called 'Olmness, w'ich is right below 'ere—"
"'Olmness?"
"It's an Island, somewhere in the Bristol Channel. It—it can't be far, Bill—an' I got 'arf-a-sufferin'—"