“And did he see you, father?”
“No: I sat still, my boy, and watched till he slunk away again. Nic, lad, we shall have them here to-night, and we must be ready.”
“Yes, father, if Captain Lawrence sends his men.”
“Whether he does or no, sir. I can’t sit still and know that my salmon are being stolen. Come—breakfast! Oh, here’s Solly.—Here, you, sir, what about those two signal flags? Hoist them directly.”
“Run ’em up, sir, as soon as it was light.”
“Good. Then, now, keep a lookout for the frigate.” The day wore away with no news of the ship being in the offing, and the Captain began to fume and fret, so that Nic made an excuse to get away and look out, relieving Solly, stationing himself by the flagstaff and scanning the horizon till his eyes grew weary and his head ached.
It was about six o’clock when he was summoned to dinner by Solly, who took his place, and Nic went and joined his father.
“Needn’t speak,” said the old man bitterly; “I know; Lawrence hasn’t come. We’ll have to do it ourselves.”
Nic was silent, and during the meal his father hardly spoke a word.
Just as they were about to rise, Solly entered the room, and the Captain turned to him eagerly.