“Mount’s Bay?” said the captain, smiling, “No; the Bay of Biscay. We passed Mount’s Bay three days ago, while you were lying so poorly in your berth. Oh, that’s nothing to mind,” he added quickly. “I was horribly bad for a week in smoother water than you’ve had; you’ve done wonders to get over it so soon.”
“Yes, you’ve done well, Jack,” said Sir John, who looked gratified by the way in which his son was behaving. “Mind! keep tight hold of the rail.”
For just then the yacht made a dive, rose, shook herself, and then, after seeming to hang poised on the summit of a green hillock, she started again with a leap.
“Yes; better hold tight till you feel more at home. One easily gets a heavy fall and bruises at first. But you’ll soon find your sea-legs, and give and swing with the vessel just as if you belonged to her.”
“Why didn’t you bring the doctor up?” said Sir John; “he is losing a glorious sight.”
“I tried hard to wake him,” replied the lad, “but he was too sleepy.”
“Yes; he likes his morning sleep,” said Sir John.
The captain walked forward to speak to the two men of the watch, and an intense longing came over the boy to undeceive his father, who had not grasped the true reason of his appearance on the deck. But try hard as he would, shame kept him silent, and he began to give way again to the nervousness which oppressed him.
“Don’t you think,” he began; but his father checked him.
“Look—look—Jack!” he said; and he pointed to something about a quarter of a mile away.