“No,” said Jack, smiling in the earnest face before him.
“Nor the Hill of Howth?”
Jack shook his head.
“Then don’t call that beautiful again in me presence,” said Dinny.
“Puts me in mind of Black Pool,” said Bart, thoughtfully.
Further conversation was checked by the interest of landing, the boat being run up on the shore and hidden among the rocks, not that it was likely that it would be seen, but the position of the fugitives and the dread of being retaken made them doubly cautious, Bart even going so far as to obliterate their footprints on the sand.
“Now, then,” said Dinny, “you’ve got the mushket and the bagnet, and those two make one; but if I was you I’d cut down one of them bamboos and shtick the bagnet an that, which would make two of it, and it would be a mighty purty tool to kill a pig.”
The hint was taken, Bart soon cutting down a long, straight lance shaft and forcing it into the socket of the bayonet.
“Then next,” said Dinny, “if I was captain I should say let’s see about something to ate.”
“Hear that, Abel?” said Bart.