"How do you know that?" asked his brother somewhat sharply, for, like some other elder brothers, Jack was a little jealous of Bob receiving any information except through him.
"I heard one of the servants tell the gardener, he was nearly raving this morning, and that no one dared go near him."
"But I would go," said Jack boldly.
"You'd get killed if you did," said Bob; "they say he's in such an awful passion, that he's mad nearly if any one goes near his room."
"Well, I don't care; I'd go and ask him what was the matter—whether he was ill, or something like that."
Bob shook his head, and evidently thought it was a good thing his brother could not put his dangerous experiment into execution. "I shouldn't like to do that," he said, speaking very slow and thoughtfully; "but if I could do anything that would help him, or do him good, I'd like to do it, for I don't suppose he will enjoy his beautiful garden half so much as we do getting this sea-weed for it."
"Enjoy it? I don't know so much about enjoying it," said Jack; "we've got to do it, and the sooner it's done the better, for we shall have a squall before long, I know."
"Never mind, it'll only blow up the more weed for to-morrow," said Bob, who always took a cheerful view of things.
"I don't know so much about that," returned his brother, again looking seawards. "That vessel don't seem to be making much headway, and she'll stand no chance if the storm comes on before she reaches the harbor, and it will come pretty soon," he added, as the wind came sweeping over the sea in fitful sobs and gusts.
The shades of evening had gathered in by the time their cart was full, and with a last look at the laboring vessel, the boys turned homewards.