“We shall swim or wade out, of course,” said Aleck.
“No, we shan’t,” grumbled the middy. “You see if it doesn’t come in the night, when we’re asleep.”
“We must be too much on the look-out for that,” said Aleck.
“It will not come all at once, but by degrees—lower and lower tides, till we get the one we want; and till then we shall have to be patient.”
“Hark at him!” said the midshipman. “Who’s to be patient at a time like this? Well, I’m beginning to feel warm and dry again; what do you say to getting back and having dinner, or whatever you like to call it? Oh, dear! Eating and drinking’s bad enough on ship board, but it’s all feasts and banquets compared to this.”
“We must try to improve it,” said Aleck. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to catch fish.”
“What? You don’t suppose fish would be such scaly idiots as to come into a hole like this?”
“Perhaps not, but I believe they’d be shelly idiots enough. I shouldn’t be a bit surprised, if we had a lobster or crab pot thrown out here, if we caught some fine ones.”
“Set one, then,” said the midshipman, sourly. “Perhaps there is one.”
“Not likely,” replied Aleck. “Never mind, let’s make the best of what we’ve got and be thankful.”