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Updated: June 11, 2025
This made Bob jump up, and, as there was plenty of ammunition, the old contention was forgotten in the new, Bigley Uggleston joining in and helping us throw stones till we grew tired, when we looked round for something fresh to do. "Let's climb right to the top of Bogle's Beacon," I said, as my eyes lit upon the highest crags at our side of the ravine. "Oh, what's the good?" said Bigley.
These substantial things had a good effect upon Bob Chowne, whose face began to look smooth and pleasant, and who showed his satisfaction farther by kicking me under the table, for he was afraid to make any more remarks, because we could hear Jonas Uggleston, in some place at the back, blowing and splashing as if he were washing himself in a bucket; and of this last there was no doubt, for we heard the handle rattle, then a loud splash, as if he had thrown the dirty water out of the window, and the bucket set down and the handle rattling again.
"Will the cutter come back, father?" I said. "I daresay it will, to see if Uggleston's lugger returns; but I don't think the lugger will, and certainly Uggleston will not dare to return here to live for some time to come." "Then what's to become of Bigley?" cried Bob Chowne. "His father must settle that, my lad." "But till he does, father?" I said. "Will he stay here?" "Certainly, my boy. Why not?
"Here, where have you been?" cried Bob, who was in the highest of glee. "Old Big says it's such a dark quiet day that the fish are sure to bite, and he's going to ask his father to let us have the boat, and row out." "But Mr Uggleston isn't at home." "No, that he isn't," said Bigley, who had just caught sight of the lugger. "That is tiresome."
"You were quite right, and they are stored below this floor in a strong cellar cut and blasted out of the solid rock. I have good doors and keys, and take every precaution; but at the same time I often feel that it is very unsafe, and of course I send it into town as often as I can." "But you don't think, father " "That Jonas Uggleston would steal it?
I replied that I was, somewhat unwillingly, for I had caught sight of Bigley coming up the valley, and I wanted to join him, and try and show that I did not intend to give up an old school friend because his father's name was often on people's lips. "Who's that you are looking for?" said my father. "Only young Uggleston, father," I said.
I never used to think anything about Bigley Uggleston in these days, only that he was overgrown and good-tempered, and never ready to quarrel; and it did not seem to strike either of us that he was about the most unselfish, self-denying slave that ever lived.
"Who is it?" he whispered, as he led the way along by the steep slope so that we might descend and go up the Gap by the stream side and reach the shore. "Yes, I know, I'm sure now," I cried. "It's old Jonas Uggleston." "Humph! Of all men in the world," said my father. "Well, the place is my own now, and no one has a right to interfere."
Monsieur insults a French gentleman. I am no spy." "Was it not the work of a spy to bring that French sloop here to ravage my place and steal the ore that had been smelted down?" "True, saire, it vas bad; but ze espion was your own countrymen, saire. Ze Capitaine Gualtiere does no do such not you calls dirty vorks as zat." "Jonas Uggleston! It was he, then?" cried my father.
"Yes, father," I said. "I beg your pardon. I did not know." "There, stop," cried my father. "It is nothing that you may not hear. Bigley Uggleston is talking again about going, and I am bullying him for it." "I can't help it, Captain Duncan," cried poor Bigley passionately.
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