“Wet! Well, if you’ll tell me how to get in there with the tide pretty high and not be wet I should like to know it. Why, I had hard work to keep the basket out of the water, and one corner did go in.”
“And you’ll have to wade out,” said Harry thoughtfully.
“Well, what of that? How many times have I done the same to get alongside of a lugger after fish? Drop o’ salt water won’t hurt me, Master Harry; I’m too well tanned for that.”
“I seem to cause trouble and pain to all I know,” he said mournfully.
“What’s a drop o’ water?” said the old woman with a laugh. “Here, you keep that lantern up in the corner, so as nobody sees the light. There’s another candle there, and a box o’ matches: and now I’m going. Good-bye, dear lad.”
“Good-bye,” he said; with a shudder; “I trust you, mind.”
“Trust me! Why, of course you do. Good night.”
“One moment,” said Harry. “What is the time?”
“Lor’, how particular people are about the time when they’ve got naught to do. Getting on for twelve, I should say. There, good night. Don’t you come and get wet, too.”
She stepped boldly into the water, and waded on with the depth increasing till it was to her shoulders, and then Harry Vine watched her till she disappeared, and the yellow light of the lantern shone on the softly heaving surface, glittering with bubbles, which broke and flashed. Then, by degrees, the rushing sound made by the water died out, and the lit-up place seemed more terrible than the darkness of the nights before.