Once Van Heldre grasped his companion’s arm, and pointed out to sea.
“A ship?” cried Leslie.
“No. Come down now.”
Waiting till the wind had dropped for the moment, they reached the rough flight of steps, and on returning to the level found that the crowd had greatly increased; and among them Leslie saw Harry Vine and his companion.
“Can’t see un, sir, can you?” shouted one of the men.
Van Heldre shook his head.
“I thought you wouldn’t, sir,” shouted another. “Capt’n Muskerry’s too good a sailor to try and make this port in such a storm.”
“Ay,” shouted another. “She’s safe behind the harbour wall at Penzaunce.”
“I pray she may be,” said Van Heldre. “Come up to my place and have some breakfast, Leslie, but not a word, mind, about the slip. I’ll tell that my way.”
“Then I decline to come,” said Leslie, and after a hearty grip of the hand they parted.