“Half a mile,” said Dick.
“No, no. Not more than a quarter.”
“But it doesn’t look like a fishing-boat,” said Dick.
“No, my lad. As far as I can make out, it is the remains of an old war galley.”
“Then it must have belonged to the Danes.”
“Danes or Saxons, Dick.”
“But the wood’s sound,” cried Tom. “It can’t be so old as that.”
“Why not, Tom? Your people dig out pine-roots, don’t they, perfectly sound, and full of turpentine? This is pine wood, and full of turpentine too.”
“But it’s such a while since the Danes and Saxons were here, Mr Marston,” said Tom.
“A mere yesterday, my lad, compared to the time when the country about here was a great pine and birch forest, before this peat began to form.”