“No, my lad; you’re on the wrong road. You must go back three miles or so, and then turn off to the right.”
“I told you so, Joe,” the man exclaimed in an injured tone. “What’s the good o’ trusting to a chap like you? Here, come along and let’s get back.”
“I sha’n’t go back,” said the one addressed; “shall you, Jemmy?”
“Not I,” said the other. “Can’t us get to London this way, captain?”
“Yes,” said Hilary laughing; “if you go straight on, but you’ll have to go all round the world first.”
“There!” cried the one addressed as Jemmy; “I told you so, matey. Come along.”
“Don’t be a fool,” said the first sailor. “Lay holt of his arm, Joe, and let’s get him back; it’ll be dark afore long.”
Hilary could not help feeling amused at the men; but as he trudged on back towards Portsmouth he saw that they were trying to make up for lost ground, and were following him pretty quickly.
Once they made such good use of their legs that they got before him; then Hilary walked a little faster and passed them, and so on during the next two miles they passed and repassed each other, the sailors saying a cheery word or two and laughing as they went by. But soon this was at an end; they seemed to grow tired, and during the next mile it had grown dark, and the sailors walked on one side of the road, Hilary on the other.
At last the sailors seemed to have made up their minds to get right away from him, walking on rapidly, till all at once Hilary heard voices talking loudly, and as he came nearer he could distinguish what was said.