"What d'yer mean by it, givin' folks a shock like that?" she demanded.
"I was looking at the pictures," he explained, and showed her.
The Success to Commerce bore on her stern panels two gaily painted landscapes, the one of Warwick Castle, the other of ruined Kenilworth. Tilda leaned over the side and saw them mirrored in the still water.
"And then," the boy pursued, "down below the pictures I saw a great ship lying in the seaweed with guns and drowned men on the deck and the fishes swimming over them. Deep in the ship a bell was tolling—"
"Nonsense!" Tilda interrupted, and catching up a pole, thrust it down overside. "Four feet at the most," she reported, as the pole found bottom. "You must be sickenin' for somethin'. Put out your tongue."
"A child of imagination," observed Mr. Mortimer, who had followed her.
"Full fathom five thy father lies—"
"'Ush!" cried Tilda.
"—Of his bones are coral made. Those are pearls that were his eyes—"
The boy sat and looked up at the speaker, staring, shivering a little.
"You know? You know too?" he stammered.