"No," was the response.
"But we expect a shoal over to-night," said the little man, with an almost imperceptible glance around the room.
"Ay," said the others, in a chorus. "We may do something to-night."
"And a very pleasant little trip, too," said Mr. Starling, nodding all round over his pewter pot. "I quite envy you, and I don't mind volunteering if so be as I shouldn't be in the way."
A slight but unmistakable expression of dismay shot for one instant on his manly face, then Willie Sanderson laughed slowly.
"Better be in bed, mate. We might have it rough, for all the wind's so dead now, and if you ain't a first-rate sailor the smell of the fish—if we get's any—might disagree with ye."
"Ay," said the little man. "Better stay in bed."
"Well, perhaps you're right," said Jem, thinking to himself that they were all mighty considerate on his behalf. "Yes, perhaps you're right. I like 'em when they are cooked, though, and I'll just look down in the morning and see if you've had a take."
"Do," said Willie, shortly, and then started another topic. But though many others followed, and Mr. Starling was quite as amusing as usual, the company did not seem to be in the mood for conversation or laughter, and Jem noticed that every man seemed to be watching or listening.
Once the door opened rather suddenly, and the little man rose with an ill attempt at indifference, but only Polly entered with some tobacco, and the little man sat down again.