Then a tremendous tea was eaten, Bigley being well enough to join in, and afterwards in cool of the evening old Jonas rowed us round and along the coast to see if we could pick up our bundles; but they had either sunk or gone off to sea, and we returned without.
Bigley was evidently very poorly, but he wouldn’t give up, and started to walk part of the way back with us.
I noted one thing as we were going. Bob Chowne and I held out our hands to say “Good-night,” and to thank old Jonas for saving our lives.
“Oh, it was nothing,” he said, shaking hands very warmly with Bob Chowne, but taking no notice of mine. “It’s all right. Good-bye, lads, but don’t do it again.”
We said we would not, and started off home, where we both expected severe scoldings; but before we had gone fifty yards up the cliff path old Jonas hailed us with a stentorian, “Ahoy!”
“What is it, father?” shouted Bigley.
“Bring those boys back,” roared old Jonas. “I forgot to give ’em the rope’s end.”
I need not tell you we didn’t go back. But when we parted from Bigley half a mile further on, I said to him:
“Why wouldn’t your father shake hands with me?”
“Hush! Don’t take any notice,” said Bigley in low voice; “he’s very angry still about Captain Duncan buying the Gap and finding the silver mine. That’s all!”