“Don’t I tell you it’s not safe nowhere? It’s my belief, boys, as there’s some’at ’orrid about that there place. I don’t say as there is, mind you; but I can’t help thinking as there’s things below as lays hold o’ the keel of a boat and runs it into the curren’ as soon as you goes anywhere near—and then it’s all over with you, for you never get back. Your boat’s rooshed round and round as soon as you get clost in, and she’s washed up again the rocks all in shivers, and down they goes, just as if you tied a little ’baccy-box at the end of a string, and turned it round and round, and kep’ hitting it again the stones.”
“Oh! I don’t believe about your things under water doing that,” said Mike—“only currents and cross currents: do you, Cinder?”
Vince did not answer, but sat gazing beyond the great headland, looking very thoughtful.
“Ah, my lad! it’s all very well for you to talk,” said the old man solemnly; “but you don’t know what there is in the wast deep, nor I don’t neither. I’ve heerd orful noises come up from out of the Scraw when the wind’s been blowing ashore, and the roarings and moanings and groanings as come up over the cliffs have been t’reble.”
“Yes, but it isn’t blowing now,” said Mike: “take us in a bit, just round the point.”
“Nay,” said the old man, shaking his head; “I won’t say I won’t, a-cause I could never face your fathers and mothers again, for I should never have the chance. I’m getting an old ’un now, and it wouldn’t matter so much about me, though I have made up my mind to live to ’bout a hunderd. I’m a-thinking about you two lads, as is only sixteen or so.”
“Vince is only fifteen,” said Mike quickly, as if snatching at the chance of proving his seniority.
“On’y fifteen!” cried the old man. “Think o’ that now—on’y fifteen and you sixteen, which means as you’ve both got ’bout seventy or eighty years more to live if you behave yourselves.”
“Oh, gently!” cried Mike; but Vince did not speak.
“And do you think I’m a-going to cut your young lives short all that much? Nay. My name’s Joe Daygo, and I’m English, and I won’t do that. If I’d been what you two young fellows said—a Spannle—it might be different, but it arn’t. There—let’s get back; and one on you can have the lobster, and t’other the Dory and mullet.”