There were a good many other little things to do, such as driving in a few wedges between the frame-work and side of the boat, to get all firmer, but Vane had come provided with everything necessary, and when he could no longer delay the start, which he had put off as long as possible, and when it seemed as if Macey would be missing if they stopped much longer, the lad rose up with his face very much flushed and spoke out frankly and well, explaining that it was quite possible that his rough machine would not work smoothly at first, but that if the principle was right he would soon have a better boat and machine.
Hereupon Gilmore cried, “Hooray!” and there was a hearty cheer, accompanied by a loud tapping of the rector’s walking stick, on the wooden gangway.
“Now, Vane, lad, we’re getting impatient,” cried the doctor, who was nearly as anxious as his nephew. “Off with you!”
“Well said, doctor,” cried the miller; “less o’ the clapper, my lads, and more of the spinning wheels and stones.”
“Ready, Macey?” whispered Vane.
“No,” was whispered back.
“Why?”
“I’m in such an awful stew.”
“Get out. It’s all right. Now then. You know. Come down and sit in your place steadily.”
Macey stepped down into the boat, which gave a lurch, and went very near the water, as far as the gunwale was concerned.