Cormorant Crag Part 42

"Well, I know that; but I haven't got the money, and it's so far to fetch it, and I ache all over, and I don't want to see old Joe to-day, and--"

"There, you're shirking the job," interrupted Vince.

"No, I'm not, for I want to get it over."

"Then don't stop smelling the stuff; hold your nose, tip it up, and you shall have a bit of sugar to eat after it if you're a good boy."

"Oh, Cinder, how I should like to punch your head!"

"No, you wouldn't. Come on and take your physic."

"I won't till I like. So there."

"'Cowardy, cowardy, custard, Ate his father's mustard,'" said Vince. "I say, I don't see that there was anything cowardly in eating his father's mustard. It was plucky. See how hot it must have been; but I suppose he had plenty of beef and vegetables with it. He must have had, because, if he hadn't, it would have made him sick."

"What, mustard would?" said Mike, who was quite ready to discuss anything not relating to the visit to old Daygo.

"Yes; mustard would."

"Nonsense. How do you know?"

"Father says so, and he knows all about those sort of things, including salts and senna. So now, then, old Ladle, you've got to get up and come and take your dose."

"Then I shan't take it to-day."

"And have old Joe come to us! Why, it would be disgraceful. You've got to come."

"Have I?" grumbled Mike; "then I shan't."

"'Day, young gen'lemen!"

Mike leaped to his feet in horror, and Vince pulled himself up in a sitting position, to stare wonderingly at the old fellow, who had come silently up over the yielding turf.

"You?" said Mike: "you've come?"

"Nay, I arn't, so don't you two get thinking anything o' the sort. I won't let you have it to go out alone."

"You--you won't let us have it to go out alone?" faltered Vince.

"That's it, my lad," said the old man.

"Then he hasn't found out yet," thought Vince; and he exchanged glances with Mike, who looked ready to dash off.

"Why, yer jumped up as if yer thought I was going to pitch yer off the cliff, Master Ladelle. Been asleep?"

"No, of course not," said Mike; and he looked at Vince, whose lips moved as if he were saying--"I'm going to tell him now."

"Might just as well have said 'yes' to you, though," grumbled Daygo.

"Just as well," a.s.sented Vince.

"Nice sort o' condition she's in now. One streak o' board nearly out.

Cost me a good four or five shilling to get it mended, for I can't do it quite as I should like."

Four or five shillings! Just the amount Vince had thought would be enough.

"If I'd let you have it," continued the old man, "that wouldn't ha'

happened. But I know: they can't cheat me. I'm a-goin' over to Jemmy Carnach to have it out with him, and first time I meets the young 'un I'm going to make him sore. See this here?"

Daygo showed his teeth in a very unpleasant grin, and drew a piece of tarry rope, about two feet long, from out of his great trousers, the said piece having had a lodging somewhere about his breast.

"Do you think Lobster--" began Vince.

"Ay, that's it: lobster," said Daygo. "Lobster it is: Jemmy Carnach would sell himself for lobster, but he arn't a-going to set his pots in my ground and go out to 'zamine 'em with my boat. I don't wish him no harm, but it would ha' been a good job if she'd sunk with him and his young cub. They're no good to the Crag--not a bit. Ay, I wish she'd sunk wi' 'em, only the boat's useful, and I should ha' had to get another."

Old Daygo ceased speaking, and after giving the rope a fierce swish through the air, as if he were hitting at Lobster's back, he put the end inside the top of his trousers, just beneath his chin, and gradually worked it down out of sight.

Vince coughed, and he was about to begin, after looking inquiringly at Mike, who shook his head, and turned it away. But Vince somehow felt as if it would be better to wait till the whole of the rope had disappeared, and Daygo had given himself a shake to make it lie comfortably. Then his lips parted; but the old man checked him by saying,--

"On'y wait till I meet young Jemmy. I've on'y got to slip my hand in here, and it's waiting for him. Yes, young gen'lemen, I'm a-going to make that chap sore as sore as sore."

"No, you're not, Joe," said Vince firmly.

"What? But I just am, my lad. If I don't lay that there piece on to his back, and make him lie down and holloa, my name arn't Daygo."

"But you are not going to thrash him, Joe," said Vince.

"Who'll stop it?"

"I will," said Vince. "It wasn't Jemmy Carnach and his boy."

"Eh? Oh yes, it was. Lobstering they were arter. I know."

"No, you do not, Joe. They didn't take it."

"What!" cried the old man. "Then who did?"

"Mike Ladelle and I."

"You did!" cried the old man, staring. "Why, I told you I wouldn't let you have it, and saw you both go home."

"But we didn't go home," said Vince. "We went and hid in the rocks, and watched till you'd gone away, and then we crept down to the boat and got her out."

"You did--you two did?" cried the old man; and his hand went into the top of his trousers.

"Yes," said Vince desperately, "and we had a long sail."

"Well!" growled the old man,--"well! And I thought it was him!"