“This made the custom-house people feel sure that they were right in their conjectures; so on they went, little dreaming of the prize they had lost.”
We all laughed heartily at Jerry Vincent’s and Mr Bexley’s stories.
“I’ll tell you a story, for the truth of which I can vouch,” said Uncle Kelson. “The circumstance only lately happened. So, strange as it may seem, there is no doubt about it. You all have heard speak of Sir Harry Burrard Neale, who commands just now the King’s yacht, the Royal Charlotte. The boatswain of her is a friend of mine, and last summer he got me a cast down to Weymouth, where I wanted to go to see the widow of an old shipmate I had promised to look after. We were just clear of the Needles. There was a light breeze and a smooth sea, when we made out a small boat standing towards us, seemingly as if she had come out of Poole harbour or Swanage.
“‘She seems to me to be a fishing-boat, and as if she wanted to speak us, Sir Harry,’ said the first lieutenant, who had been spying at her through his glass.
“‘So I see,’ answered the captain. ‘There seem to be two people in her making signals. It will not delay us much, so heave the ship to, and let us learn what they want.’
“This was just like Sir Harry. Many a captain would have stood on and taken no notice of a poor fisherman’s boat, even had there been a dozen people waving in her. In a little time the boat came alongside, with a man and a woman in her, and they were certainly the rummest old couple you ever saw in your life.
“A midshipman hailed them, and asked them what they wanted. As well as we could make out, for they spoke very broad Scotch, they said that they wanted their son.
“‘Let them come aboard,’ said Sir Harry kindly, ‘and we will hear what they have to say.’
“With no little difficulty, after a good deal of pulling and hauling, we got the old couple upon deck, and led them aft to Sir Harry.
“‘For whom are you inquiring, my good people?’ asked the captain.