The waterman now shading his eyes with one hand from the sun, while the oar idly played in the rollocks, said:—
“It seems to me, master, that yon skiff is following us for some reason.”
“Indeed!” says Gray. “What have you been doing, that you should be followed on the Thames?”
“I doing!” cried the man.
“Ay.—You suspect you are followed.”
“Mayhap it’s yourself, master, they follow,” remarked the man, rather surlily.
Gray smiled as he replied:—
“Oh, no;—they suspect you of being one of the notorious pirates of the Thames we have heard so much of lately.”
“The tide has turned,” said the waterman, looking into the stream as it appeared, in preference to making any reply to this vague charge.
“Hark ye!” said Gray, as if a sudden thought had struck up in his brain. “If you are inclined sometimes to earn more money at once than a year’s plying as waterman on the river could produce you, it is possible I may throw a job in your way.”