In half an hour the luggers were close together off the Gap with their sails flapping, and the French skipper jumped into the boat with us, and rowed to the Saucy Lass, on board of which we had long before descried my father and the doctor along with old Jonas Uggleston.
We leaped up the side eagerly, and yet with fear and trembling, not knowing what our reception might be, and a few words explained all.
“Humph!” said old Jonas, “nice chase we’ve had after you. Well, I suppose I mustn’t after all.”
He picked up a capstan-bar, and balanced it in his hands before throwing it down under the little bulwark with a loud clatter.
“Mustn’t what, father?” said Bigley.
“Knock you down with that, as you’ve had such a rough time of it. I was in hopes that you were all three drowned.”
“And he went himself to see and find ze bodies, and sheat ze sharks!” cried the French skipper laughing, and clapping us on the shoulders.
“Perhaps Captain Duncan, my landlord, would like to use that bar on his boy!” growled old Jonas sourly.
“No!” said my father bluffly, “I can preserve discipline, Mr Uggleston, without treating my boy like a dog. Come, Sep, my lad, let’s get ashore.”
“The doctor, then?” said old Jonas, with his eyes twinkling maliciously.