“Think so?” said Sir James.
“I am sure so, sir. You see, no cement has been used.”
“So I see,” said Sir James, “but I shouldn’t attach anything to that. Why, we have plenty of walls built up of loose stones at home. Don’t you remember those in Wales, boys?”
“Yes, uncle, and in Cornwall too,” said Dean.
“Not such a wall as this,” said the doctor, with a satisfied smile. “I feel perfectly sure that this goes back to a very early period of civilisation. Now, my lads, we are pretty clear so far as the trees and bushes go. Keep your shovels at work.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” cried Dan. “Here, I’ll have first go, messmate. I’ll fill the basket, you’ll carry out.” Buck nodded, and directly after the two men were hard at work, while whenever the sailor’s spade, which he dubbed shovel, came in contact with a big loose stone, one or other of the keepers pounced upon it and bore it to the heap of earth and rubbish that began to grow where Buck emptied his basket.
“Farther away; farther away,” said the doctor. “What for, sir?” asked Dean.
“Go on, Dean,” cried Mark. “Can’t you see that if they make a big heap close to, it may come crumbling down again and Dan will get covered in?”
The sailor chuckled, and threw a shovelful of rubbish, purposely missing the basket and depositing the well aimed beginnings of the hole he was digging upon Dean’s feet.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir!” he cried apologetically. “Here, you, Buck Denham, what made you put the basket there? You ought to have known it was out of reach. More this way, messmate.”