“Oh, won’t they!” cried Josh; “they’d find us if we was only out in a pork tub. Lor’ a mussy me, youngster, you don’t know our Cornish lads!”
“We shall keep on hailing now and then,” said Will, whose teeth were chattering in spite of his cheery tones.
“Ahoy—oy—oy!”
Very distinct but very distant the shouting of a numerous crowd of people; and now, like the tiniest and faintest of specks, lights could be seen dancing about on the shore, while all at once, one star, a vivid blue star, burst out, burning clear and bright for a few minutes, making Dick gaze wonderingly ashore.
“Blue light,” said Will.
“To hearten us up a bit, and say the boat’s coming!” cried Josh. “Ahoy—ah! Let ’em know which way to row.”
Josh shouted from time to time, and then Will gave a shout or two; and there were answering shouts that seemed to come nearer, and at last plain enough there was the light of a lanthorn rising and falling slowly, telling of its being in a boat that was being propelled by stout rowers.
“Why, my father’s sure to be in that boat!” cried Dick suddenly. “He’ll have been frightened about me, and have come off to see.”
“Shouldn’t wonder,” said Josh. “I should if I had a boy.”
“You shall hail when they get nearer,” said Will. “They couldn’t hear you yet.”