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Updated: May 31, 2025
She nodded, trying to look cheerful, and we left her, but had not reached the broken companion-way before a door on our right opened, a light was thrown across us, and I felt Mr Denning's arm twitch. For it was Mr Frewen coming out of the cabin in which Walters had been placed, the one in which Mr Preddle had been kept a prisoner, and as soon as he was outside he carefully locked it.
"I don't know," he cried, "I don't carry fishing-lines in my pockets. Ask old fat Preddle, he's a regular fisherman. But you won't catch any." I did not think Mr Preddle was likely to have lines, so I did not ask him, but thought I would go and ask every man I met, when I caught sight of Bob Hampton, and went to him. "Fishin'-lines, my lad? No, I don't think there's any aboard."
That was a fact, for from cut of the hold, and spreading all over the ship, the dense white fumes hid everything; and though Mr Preddle was now only about a yard away, I could not see anything but a dim, blurred patch; while facing me a dull, luminous disk all blurred and hidden from time to time showed where the sun was dealing his slanting beams.
I saw Mr Frewen give quite a start, and Mr Preddle regularly jumped, but they were both so surprised that they could neither of them speak, while Mr Denning turned to Bob Hampton. "Your turn must be when they come back," he said.
I shouted, for I was about exhausted. "Where are you, boy?" cried Bob Hampton, and he ran to where the man I clung to was just jerking himself clear. Then he came down upon me with a groan as Bob Hampton struck at him, and, half-insensible, he too was dragged to the hatch and thrown down as another shot was fired. "I'm all right!" yelled Mr Preddle, securing the hatch again. "Where's Mr Brymer?"
As for Mr Preddle, he would sit against the bulk-head and bemoan his fate as long as he could get a listener, and half his discourse would be about his fish, the other about the unfortunate passengers.
"Thank God!" cried a voice behind me, and I turned to see that it was Mr Frewen, who now ran to the entrance of the saloon, where I saw him grasping Miss Denning's and her brother's hands, and I knew he was saying "Saved!" Directly after he was back with us, who were carefully lifting Mr Brymer, while Mr Preddle lay so motionless that I was afraid he was dead.
There, the fish will do now." We both went on deck, and somehow when I was alone I too went into a brown study, and began wondering at Mr Preddle's curious ways, and thinking what a pity it was that a gentleman like Mr Denning, who was on a voyage for the sake of his health, should take such a dislike to Mr Frewen and Mr Preddle too.
"Mr Frewen! Dale!" came from the opening. "Silence, I say!" cried the doctor, fiercely. "I won't be silent," cried Mr Preddle. "Here, Dale, take this; I've pushed it through as far as I can reach. Give it him. Brandy." "Ah!" ejaculated Mr Frewen. "Quick." I had already reached out with the hand which I had taken from Hampton's wrist, and was fishing about with it in the dark, but without a bite.
"Then come along," said the mate. "But where is Mr Preddle?" "Gone to look after his fish," I said; for he was always snatching every opportunity to go and see how the salmon and trout fry were getting on. "Go and fetch him, Dale." I had to pass Mr Frewen on my way, and I seized the opportunity to whisper to him
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