"He's asking were you proving, boy. Say 'Va—I was.'"
Fenella put her open palms at each side of her mouth, under her sou'-wester, and cried, "Va!"
"Quoid oo er y piyr?"
"He asks what you found in your net. Say 'Pohnnar—a child.'"
"Oh my goodness! Pohnnar," cried Fenella.
"Cre'n eash dy pohnnar?"
"He asks what is the age of your child. Say 'Dussan ny quieg-yeig—twelve to fifteen.'"
"My goodness gracious! Dussan ny quieg-yeig," cried Fenella.
By this time everybody was in convulsions of laughter, and Stowell could scarcely resist the impulse to throw his arms about Fenella and kiss her. "Soon! Soon! I must tell her soon!" he thought.
The wind had dropped and a great stillness had fallen on the sea. The glow from the lights of the Dublin was in the western sky; the revolving light of the Chicken Rock (the most southerly point of Man) was in the east; and for two miles round lay the herring boats, with their watch-lights burning on the roofs of their net houses, and looking like stars which had fallen from the darkening sky on to the bosom of the sea.