"Well, then, there you are."
This appeared to Sam a clinching argument. Dick laughed.
"I'll speak to Mother," he said. "Perhaps she will let Susan have a little silk for high days and holidays. But you know the story of the jackdaw that dressed up as a peacock and was pecked to death by the peacocks it went amongst?"
"Never heerd o't, and I don't believe it. Peacocks be sech silly mortals. Howsomever, if ye'll speak to Mistress I'll say no more, for she'll do whatever you tell her."
By this time they were far out in the bay. They cast their lines overboard, and caught one or two flat fish; but sport being very slow, and the wind increasing in force, after about an hour they decided to return.
Another boat, meanwhile, had put out for the same purpose. It contained Jake Tonkin and Ike Pendry. The two boats passed within a few yards of each other.
"Afeard of a capful o' wind," said Jake with a sneer to his companion, loud enough to be heard on the other boat.
"Ay, they'll 'eave up afore they get ashore," rejoined Pendry.
Dick paid no attention to them. Running in behind the Beal, which sheltered him from the wind, he found the sea in Trevanion Bay so calm that he began to wonder whether he had not been over-hasty in putting back. They landed, moored the boat, and carried their meagre catch to the Towers.
"They may jeer," said Dick, as he steadied himself against the wind, which on the cliff-top blew with the force of half a gale, "but they'll run in themselves pretty soon, you'll see."