“I’ve got a line and baits,” I said, speaking as if I had not noticed that anything was wrong, though I felt sure that the doctor and Mr Preddle had been there in my absence.
“You can take them back,” said Mr Denning, shortly, “I shall not fish to-day.”
Miss Denning turned round quickly.
“John dear!” she whispered, and she gave him a piteous look.
He frowned and turned to me, when seeing, I suppose, my disappointment, he smoothed his face and then smiled.
“Oh, very well,” he said, “I was going to my cabin, but we will have a try.”
I saw Miss Denning lay her hand upon his arm, but took no notice, for I knelt down on the deck directly, cut a bait ready—a long strip of the bacon rind—stuck the point of the large sharp hook through one end as if I were going to fish for mackerel at home, and then after unwinding some of the line, to which a heavy leaden sinker was attached, I was about to throw the bait over the stern.
“But that piece of lead will be too heavy,” cried Mr Denning, now full of interest in the fishing. “It will make the line hang straight down, and I keep seeing the fish play near the top.”
I shook my head.
“It will not sink six feet,” I said, “because we shall drag it along so fast. If we were going faster I should require a heavier lead.”