"You're missing your beauty sleep, Stokes," we heard our Viking remark.
"I'm not missing anything else, though," replied the coastguard.
"Like half a dozen mackerel for your breakfast?" inquired Mr. Benenden in kindly accents.
"I've no stomach for fish, thank you all the same," replied Mr. Stokes coldly.
He walked up and down on the beach, clapping his arms to keep himself warm.
"Going to see us unload her?" asked Mr. Benenden.
"If it's all the same to you," answered the disagreeable coastguard.
He had to wait a long time, for the cart did not come, and did not come, and kept on not coming for ages and ages. When it did the men unloaded the boat, carrying the fish by basketfuls to the cart.
Every one played up jolly well. They took the fish from the side of the hold where the keg wasn't till there was quite a deep hole there, and the other side, where the keg really was, looked like a mountain in comparison.
This could be plainly seen by the detested coastguard, and by three of his companions who had now joined him.