“And then you went down to your boat-hole and ran over here as fast as you could?”
“Yes; but it wasn’t fast, for the wind kept dropping. But how did you know this?”
“Never you mind how I knowed. You knowed that me and four mates came over here last night.”
“That I didn’t,” cried Aleck. “What for—to run a cargo?”
“Never you mind what for, my lad. You knowed we’d come.”
“That I didn’t. I hadn’t the least idea you had. But how did you know I got out the glass to have a look at the vessels? Bah! You couldn’t know if you were over here. No one saw me but old Dunning. It’s impossible.”
“Is it?” said the man, with a sneer. “Then we arn’t got a glass at Eilygugg, of course, eh, and nobody left behind to look out for squalls and run across to tell us to look out when they see the wind changing? So, you see, clever as you think yourself, you’re found out, my lad. Now do you see?”
“I see that you’re on the wrong tack, Eben,” said the lad, scornfully, “and let me tell you that you’ve been talking a lot of nonsense. I don’t see why I should tell you. It’s absurd to accuse me of being a spy and informer. Do you suppose we up at the Den want to be on bad terms with all the fishermen and—and people about?”
“You mean to say you haven’t put the boat’s crew yonder up to taking me and my mates?”
“Of course I do. Why, I haven’t even spoken to the officer, only to the midshipman.”