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Updated: May 2, 2025
But what gave us more happiness was to spy, on the blue water beyond, the bright canvas of the Godsend, and to hear the cries and stir of Billy Pottery's mariners as they haul'd down the sails. And Billy himself was on the lookout with his spyglass.
And in a very few minutes Delia and I were crouching on the timbers, each with a cask inverted over us, our noses at the bungholes and our ears listening to Master Pottery's footsteps as they climb'd heavily back to deck. The rest of the casks were stack'd close round us, so that even had the gloom allow'd, we could see nothing at all. "Jack!" "Delia!" "Dost feel heroical at all?" "Not one whit.
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