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"I remember coming round here after we left the boat." Bigley and I looked at each other, but we said nothing, only followed my father and Bob Chowne as they went round to the other side of the pile of rock, and there lay the sea before us with the tide racing in, and sweeping over the rocks, but no boat. "It's very strange," said my father; "we must have left it in one of these places."
We all sat down with our legs in the hole, following Bigley's example as he set himself to watch the coming of his father's boat, which was growing plainer now every minute, and trying, by spreading all the sail she could, to reach the Gap. "I wonder how long she'll be?" said Bob, sitting there with his chin upon his hands. "About an hour," replied Bigley. "What! Coming that little way?
There, we won't go out far, only to the mouth there by the buoy, and we can catch plenty of fish without any trouble at all." I gave way I couldn't help it, and we two went on, so that when Bigley came with the baskets and lines we were waiting for them, and his scruples were nearly overcome. "Think it will matter if we take the boat?" he said dubiously, for he evidently shared our longing to go.
"Look here, old Teggley Grey!" cried Bigley firing up; "if you say another word about my being so large, I'll pitch you out of the back of the cart, and drive into Barnstaple without you." "Do, Bigley, do," cried Bob in ecstasy. "Here, I'll hold the reins. Chuck him out." "Don't talk that way, Mars Bob Chowne," whined the old man. "You wouldn't like me to be hurt."
Run, Bob; run, Sep!" panted Bigley, as if he was being suffocated; "the water will be over us directly, and you must go and tell poor father where I am."
"Down by the pool. Come on, Big, old chap," shouted Bob. "I'll get them," I said, and I ran to the bottom pool and had to fish them out of the bottom where they had been left. As I took them out I felt ready to drop them, but I did not, for I flung them and my net and basket as far up the shore as I could, and held out my hands to Bigley, who was looking out at me from the grotto-like place.
"Oh, come along, Captain Duncan," growled old Jonas surlily. "You must drink a glass with him. I won't poison you this time." "Thanks, Uggleston," said my father quietly; and, intimate as I was with Bigley, school-fellows and companions as we were, I could not help noticing the difference, and how thoroughly my father was the gentleman and Jonas Uggleston the commonplace seafaring man.
That brings me to Measles. Bigley his name was; but he'd had the small-pox very bad when a child, through not being vaccinated; and his face was all picked out in holes, so round and smooth that you might have stood peas in them all over his cheeks and forehead, and they wouldn't have fallen off; so we called him Measles. If any of you say "Why?" I don't know no more than I have said.
Bigley was ready for the emergency, though, directly, and we saw the rise and fall of the tin pan as he swept it up and down and sent the water flying on the wings of the wind.
"Oh, it's of no use to shove it there," he replied. "No; here's the place. Ah! Now we've got it." "Shall I come there and help with the bar?" cried Bigley. "No, you sha'n't come there and help with the bar," sneered Bob. "There ain't hardly room for us two to work, and you'd want a great bar half a mile long all to yourself.
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