“The cows!” cried the young lieutenant. “Ah, to be sure. Remember the cow falling off the cliff, Ram?”
“Ay, sir, that I do. But look yonder, sir. You could make out the shelf on the big cliff if you had your glass. Remember our tussle there?”
“To be sure I do,” said Lieutenant Raystoke, sheltering his eyes in a very deceptive fashion, for he was trying to make out the old grove of trees amidst which stood the Hoze.
“Mr Raystoke!”
“Captain calling you, sir,” said a rugged-looking sailor, with a very swarthy face, that looked as if it would be all the better for a wash, but only seemed.
“All right, Dick, my man,” said the young officer; and he hurried to where a plump, rosy little man stood in full post-captain’s uniform.
“Ah, there you are, Mr Raystoke,” said the captain, handing the lieutenant his glass. “I’ve been sweeping the shore, and it brought back old days. Look there; you can easily make out the range of cliffs. That highest one is where you and Mr Gurr were at the burning out of the smugglers ten years ago. How time slips by!”
“Yes, sir,” said Lieutenant Archy Raystoke, returning the glass; “that’s where the wasps’ nest was destroyed.”
Then to himself,—
“I wonder whether Celia will be glad to see me.”