The men fishing, and the beacon itself, loomed large and mysterious in the half-luminous fog. Perhaps this was the reason that the sea-gulls flew so near them, and gave forth an occasional and very melancholy cry, as if of complaint at the changed appearance of things.
"There's naethin' to be got the day," said John Watt, rather peevishly, as he pulled up his line and found the bait gone.
Baits are always found gone when lines are pulled up! This would seem to be an angling law of nature. At all events, it would seem to have been a very aggravating law of nature on the present occasion, for John Watt frowned and growled to himself as he put on another bait.
"There's a bite!" exclaimed Joe Dumsby, with a look of doubt, at the same time feeling his line.
"Poo'd in then," said Watt ironically.
"No, 'e's hoff," observed Joe.
"Hm! he never was on," muttered Watt.
"What are you two growling at?" said Ruby, who sat on one of the beams at the other side.
"At our luck, Ruby," said Joe. "Ha! was that a nibble?" ("Naethin' o' the kind," from Watt.) "It was! as I live it's large; an 'addock, I think."
"A naddock!" sneered Watt; "mair like a bit o' tangle than——eh! losh me! it is a fish——"