Mr. Snape came up just here, drawling, "What ye think o' the winters down 'ere, now, lad?"
"They are long," said Noll; "but I've got through one, somehow. If it weren't for the sickness, and such a long time without letters, I wouldn't mind. Oh! skipper, haven't you got a great packet of 'em for me?"
"Been sick down 'ere; hev ye?" said Ben, evading Noll's question. "Well, that's wuss'n bein' without letters, eh, lad?"
"But haven't you got a bundle of 'em for me?" queried Noll. "I can't wait, skipper!"
The skipper began to slowly shake his head. "Sorry," he said, "but I didn't bring ye nary letter this time. Don' know but all yer frien's hev forgot ye, fur they didn't give a single scrap o' paper to bring, nor a message, nuther."
Mr. Snape began to grin, seeing how Noll's face fell, and how all his joy and eagerness had suddenly vanished, and stepping along to the hatchway, made certain mysterious signs and beckonings to something or some one, there. Noll, filled with disappointment, walked away to the stern and looked down into the green depths of water rippling there, and strove to conceal his feelings from the watchful skipper. Up from the hatchway and along the deck came a light step,—eager, hurrying,—and before Noll could turn around, two arms had clasped him about and held him fast against the rail, while a voice—just as full of laughter and merriness as a voice could be—cried,—
"Oh, Noll, Noll Trafford! not to know me! not to guess that I was here! Why, you dear old fellow, ain't I better than letters? I've a good mind to never let you look around to pay for not mistrusting that I was here! Oh, Noll!"
"Well, I be beat!" said the skipper. "I never seed a lad so dumbfounded afore. What ye goin' to give me fur bringin' ye sech a parcel, Master Noll?"
But Noll had only eyes and ears for his friend.
"Ned, Ned Thorn!" he exclaimed, looking at his friend with wide-open eyes, as if he thought he was seeing a vision. "It is really you, only grown a little taller!"