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Arthur did not answer till they were outside, and then he turned viciously upon his brother.
"You're a regular coward," he cried, "to strike a blow like that."
"I didn't say you were a coward for beginning it," said d.i.c.k sharply.
"You struck the first blow. Never mind, let's shake hands. It's all over now."
Arthur turned his back and went away, switching his cane as he walked towards the upper part of the village, while, after stopping to gaze after him for a few minutes, d.i.c.k sighed, and strolled down to his favourite post, the pier, to tell Will Marion that he had obtained leave for the fishing, and to ask what time they were to start.
"I wish I hadn't hit Taff," he said to himself dolefully; "but he knows how savage it makes me if I'm hurt. I wish I hadn't hit him, though, all the same."
The regret was vain: he could not take back the blow, and his forehead wrinkled up and his spirit felt depressed as he went on.
"Poor old Taff!" he said to himself. "I don't think he's so strong as I am, and that makes him ill-tempered. And I'd been promising father that I'd take care of him; and then I've got such a brutal temper that I go and begin knocking him about.--Oh, I wish I wasn't so hot and peppery!
It's too bad, that it is.
"I suppose we sha'n't go conger-fishing now," he said gloomily. "Taff won't care to go.
"Yes, he will," he said after a few minutes' pause. "I'll tell him at dinner-time I'm very sorry; and then we shall make it up, and it will be all right! Why, hallo! there he is going down to the boats. He must have been round the other way. I'll bet a penny he heard what I said to father about the fishing, or else he has seen Will."
The latter was the more correct surmise, though Arthur had also heard his father give his consent.
"Hi! Taff!" shouted d.i.c.k; but his brother did not turn his head, stalking straight down to the pier and getting to where Will and Josh were at work preparing their tackle for the night's fishing.
"I'm very sorry, Taff," said d.i.c.k humbly. "I hope I did not hurt you much."
Arthur made no reply, but began to speak to Will.
"Papa has given me leave to go with you," he said; "but I don't think I should care about being out so late."
"Better come, sir," said Josh. "It will be rare sport. I know about the best place along our bay, and it hasn't been fished for six months, has it, Will?"
"Nine months, quite," said Will. "Yes, you had better come, sir."
"He's hoping I won't go," said Arthur to himself; "and d.i.c.k hopes I won't go; but I will go just out of spite, to let them see that I'm not going to let them have all their own way."
"Oh, he'll come," said d.i.c.k, "and you'll give him some good sport, won't you? He hasn't had any fishing since we've been down here. And I say, Josh, my father says he shall hold you responsible. No getting us run down this time."
"Not I," said Josh. "I'll have a lantern hoisted as we row back, and no boats will come where we are fishing; it's too rocky."
"Let's see the lines," said d.i.c.k eagerly. "Oh, I say, what a hook!
It's too big."
"Not it," said Will. "Congers have big mouths, and they're very strong."
"What time shall we get back?"
"'Bout ten, sir," said Josh, "and start at half-past five. We'll have everything ready."
Arthur turned to go directly after; and though d.i.c.k was anxious to stay he was more eager to make friends with his brother, and he followed him, to have his apology accepted at last, but not in the most amiable of ways.
The fact is Arthur would have held out longer, but he could not do so without jeopardising the evening trip, upon which he had set his mind.
His was a singular state of mind, for although filled with an intense longing, this was balanced by a curious sensation of dread, consequent upon his somewhat nervous temperament, which is a roundabout way of saying that he was afraid.
The idea of going right away, as it seemed to him, at night over the dark water to fish by the light of a lanthorn was startling, and sent a curious shiver through him; but at the same time it attracted him with a strange fascination that forced him to keep to his determination of being one of the party, as often as his old timidity made him disposed to say he would stay at home.
"And if I did, d.i.c.k would laugh at me. But he shall not this time."
So he kept up a distant manner towards his brother for the rest of the day, playing grand and pardoning him, as he said to himself, by degrees, so that after an early tea, when they had started together they were pretty good friends.
"I am glad you are going, Taff," said d.i.c.k in his buoyant way. "I shall ask Josh to take special care of you."
"I beg that you will do nothing of the sort," said Arthur haughtily. "I daresay I can take care of myself."
Arthur drew himself up as he said this, and stalked along rather grandly; and of course he might dare to say that he could take care of himself: but saying and doing are two very different things, and the probabilities are that if he had known what conger-fishing meant, he would not have gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
OVER THE BAY IN THE EVENTIDE, WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN IN THE WEST.
It was close upon half-past five, and all Will's preparations had been made. Lines of strong cord with hooks bound up the snooding with bra.s.s wire were on their winders. There was a tub half full of tasty pilchards--damaged ones fresh out of a late boat that had come in that afternoon. There was another tub full of much more damaged pilchards-- all pounded up for ground bait.
In fact nothing had been forgotten; even three oilskins had been lashed, in the stern ready for the visitors in case it should rain.
"I say," said Josh, "how about the young gent? I mean him Master d.i.c.k calls Taff?"
"Well, what about him?" said Will.
"Won't he be scared when we gets a conger over the side."
"I never thought of that," said Will musingly. "Oh! I should think not."
"'Cause we shall be in a gashly pickle if we haul in a big one, and she scares the youngster out of the boat."
"We must kill them at once," said Will.
"Yes; it's all very well to say kill 'em at once," grumbled Josh; "but you know what a gashly thing a big conger is to kill."
"Yes; he won't lie still and be killed sometimes," said Will laughing.
"Ah! well, perhaps we sha'n't catch any at all."
"Oh, yes! we shall, and gashly big uns too. Hadn't we better leave young Arthur behind--'tother won't be feared?"
"No; it's too late now," said Will. "Here they are;" for just then the brothers came along the pier, and after Arthur had stepped in rather a dignified way down into the boat, d.i.c.k leaped in and insisted upon taking an oar.
The boat was pushed off at once, and while Will and d.i.c.k were rowing Josh had to answer Arthur Temple's questions.