And she glanced at two of the small pleasure-craft in the river, both of which had evidently suffered some injury, as their water-logged condition bore witness.
Clifford set about the task with enthusiasm, and, not without difficulty, succeeded in bringing the boats up on the slimy bank.
It was warm work, and as Otto Conybeare made no offer to assist him, it was a long time before Clifford managed, first by baling the water out of the boats with an old pail and then by turning them a little on one side when he had partly dragged them out, and emptying them, to finish his task. When he at last raised his head with a great sigh of satisfaction, he saw in the river below a weather-beaten old punt, in which sat a young fisherman of the realistic, not the operatic, kind, wearing a hard felt hat, a stained jersey, and a huge pair of sea-boots, who regarded him with an air of mingled pity and contempt.
“She always gets moogs to do her dirty work, she do,” he observed, with a jerk of the head in the direction of the fair Nell. “And the better dressed they are, the more she likes it. Oh, she’s a rare un, she be.”
Now, it is not in human nature to like being classed among the “moogs,” and Clifford, who could hardly flush a deeper crimson than he had already done with his exertions, tried to assume an air of philosophic indifference in vain.
“I’m afraid you are not chivalrous, my man,” said he, thrusting his arms into his coat and feeling that he would like a plunge into the river.
“I don’t care to pull the ’eart out of my body and get no thank for it,” rejoined the fisherman.
Clifford, in spite of his assumed stoicism, began to feel like a fool. He looked toward the spot where Nell had been standing beside the shed, and saw that she, as well as his two friends, had disappeared. The fisherman grinned and stuck the end of an old pipe in his mouth with an air of snug satisfaction.
“I wasn’t fashionable enough for her, I wasn’t; an’ I thank my stars for it. It’s saved my back many a good load.”
Then Clifford felt satisfied that it was pique at having his own advances rejected which caused the young fisherman to be so contemptuous. So he said, without irritation: