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Updated: June 11, 2025
"No!" said my father bluffly, "I can preserve discipline, Mr Uggleston, without treating my boy like a dog. Come, Sep, my lad, let's get ashore." "The doctor, then?" said old Jonas, with his eyes twinkling maliciously. "What, to knock my boy down, Uggleston? No, thank you, sir.
My father was silent, but his face was flushed, and I saw Jonas Uggleston dart a curious look at him as he screwed up his face, and at the same moment Bigley grasped my hand. "I see," said the officer, "I shall have to question the boys. Once more, sir, I ask you as an officer and a gentleman, do you not know where that cargo was landed?"
"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.
Bob kept his word, and for the rest of the holidays when I went out it always used to be with Bigley Uggleston. But we did not neglect poor Bob, for we went to see him nearly every day, and played games with him in the garden, and finished the gooseberries, and began the apples, contriving to enjoy ourselves pretty well.
I looked at him intently and felt troubled, for he frowned a little, and, before I knew what I was saying, the words slipped: "You don't mind Bigley Uggleston coming here, do you, father?" "Yes no," he said, sitting up up very stiffly.
"I think I shall wait till Jonas Uggleston gets home, and then tell him all I have seen." "But it seems so hard on poor Bigley," I said dolefully. "Ah!" shouted my father. "Stamp on it, Sep; stamp it down, boy. Crush out that feeling, for it is like a temptation. Duty, honesty, first; friends later on.
"N-no, Mr Uggleston," I panted, half hysterically, as I tugged at the oar, an example followed by Bob Chowne, who was very silent and very blue. "Soon as I get you aboard, I'll give you all a good rope's-ending, and chance what your fathers say," grumbled old Uggleston, as he sent the water flashing over the side. "I suppose it was my Bigley as set you at it, wasn't it?"
"Master Bigley Master Bigley, I was afraid I should never see you any more!" "Brave vomans? Ha, ha! Brave vomans!" cried the Frenchman. "Look here, Duncan!" said the doctor. "I don't think we'll trouble Mr Uggleston any more. We want to get back home." "Yes," said my father; "but " He made a movement with his head towards the French skipper.
The next day came, and with it Bob Chowne from Ripplemouth and Bigley Uggleston from the Gap; and we three boys set off over the cliff path for a regular good roam, with the sun beating down on our backs, the grasshoppers fizzling in amongst the grass and ferns, the gulls squealing below us as they flew from rock to rock, and, far overhead now, a hawk wheeling over the brink of the cliff, or a sea-eagle rising from one of the topmost crags to seek another where there were no boys.
Let me look at that pistol, Uggleston." Bigley handed him the pistol, and my father drew the ramrod, thrust it down the barrel, and gave it two or three taps to make sure that it was not loaded. Then replacing the ramrod he cocked it, held it at arm's length, and drew the trigger.
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