"Git him," said Sanders, "there he is," and he pointed to the Sea-Horse where Macreary sat fishing. Then all hands had a good laugh and went on with their work, hiding their amusement from the strangers. It would be a good joke. They would have the pleasure of seeing the vessel piled up before she drew out of sight.
The three men on the new arrival were in no hurry. They fished a little while and finally one of them rowed across the twenty fathoms of intervening water to Macreary, who had heard the conversation and was ready. As he dropped into the small boat he looked to the southward and noticed a heavy bank of cloud rising. He said nothing until aboard the sloop and then asked to look at the glass. It was falling rapidly.
"There'll be a bit o' dirty weather comin'," he said, as he came on deck and joined the fishermen.
"Is there air harbour round erbouts?" asked Captain James, baiting his hook. He was in no hurry to get under way.
"There's good water behind that cay up yander," said Macreary.
"How fer?"
"'Bout five mile."
"All right, we'll start just afore dark—kin make it in thirty or fo'ty minutes with a breeze, hey?"
"I reckon," said Macreary, looking anxiously at the weather to the southward. Then they hauled up fish for a couple of hours until the sunshine turned a brassy colour and finally died away as the cloud bank covered the western sky.