“And hearty glad on it, too, Master Aleck, say I. A-mussy me, my lad, what would the Den ha’ been without you there? The captain wouldn’t ha’ wanted me. I don’t wonder as I couldn’t rest, but come over here every morning and stayed till dark, climbing about the rocks and cliffs, with the birds a-shouting at me and thinking all the time that I’d come arter their young ’uns—bubblins, as we calls ’em, ’cause they’re so fat.”
“And so they haven’t been looking for me any more?” said the middy, in a disappointed tone.
“No, sir; not since they telled me to keep on looking for yer. You see, everybody said as you must ha’ gone overboard and been washed out to sea, same as the captain felt that you’d slipped off the cliff somewhere, Master Aleck, and been drowned. But I kep’ on thinking as both on yer might ha’ been washed into some crivissy place and stuck there, and that’s why I kep’ on peeking and peering about, hoping I might come upon one of you if I didn’t find both; and sure enough, here you are. I don’t know what you gents think on it, but I call it a right-down good morning’s work for such a man as me.”
“But you did not walk over from Rockabie this morning, my man?” said the middy.
“Not walk over, sir? Oh, yes, I did.”
“You must be very tired?”
“Not me, sir. My legs never get tired; and yet the queerest thing about it is that they allus feel stiff.”
“Don’t talk any more, Tom,” said Aleck. “I want to get to business. Now, then, don’t you think we might get out now?”
“Well, yes, sir; p’raps we might. It’s a good deal lighter, you see, since I come, but she’s far from low water yet, and it’ll come much easier when tide’s right down. But can’t I have a bit of a look round, Master Aleck?”
“Of course,” was the reply, and the sailor grinned and chuckled as he ran his eyes over what he looked upon as a regular treasure house for anyone whose dealings were on the sea with boats.