“Your servant, young gents, and my ’umble dooty to both of you; but, at the same time, I don’t want any more’n fair an honest wages, and, if so be as you ain’t in the position to give it, why, well and good, says I; but, if so be as you can, why, I’ll take what’s fair, and right, and lawful, and no more—”
But at this point this interesting conversation was abruptly terminated by a loud cry from Tom. His eyes were fixed upon the sea, and were fascinated by something there.
“A sail! a sail!” he cried. “A sail! O, a sail! Look, look, look!”
Arthur and Bailey sprang to their feet, and looked in the direction where Tom was pointing. Tom seized the spy-glass, wrhich they had brought into the den, and examined more closely, while Arthur and Bailey watched the distant sea.
And there, on the distant sea, several miles away, a sail appeared, unmistakably. It was a schooner, and she was not more than five miles away.
“She’s heading away from us,” said Tom; “she’s going away, out to sea.”
“Don’t be too hasty,” said Bailey; “she may p’raps be only beatin up agin this here wrind. It’s a head wind for her.”
“I wish it may turn out so,” said Tom.
They now watched in silence for some time longer. The schooner held on her way steadily. At length she tacked, and, wearing round, headed towards the shore.
“I knowed it!” said Bailey, triumphantly. “She’s a coastin along, and is beatin up agin the wind. Just hand us that there glass for a minute, if you please, and let us git a squint at her.”