Part 32 (1/2)

”With that little shaver on the coast,” said the clerk, ”'tis best done quickly”

”I've no heart for it,” the skipper growled

The clerk's thin face hite and drawn His hand trelass Nor had _he_ any heart for it It had been all very well, at first; it had see like a lark--just a wild lark The crew, too, had taken it in the spirit of larking--at first

But now that the time was come both forecastle and cabin had turned uneasy and timid

In the forecastle, the cook said to the first hand:

”Wisht I was out o' this”

”Wisht I'd never cohed

Their words were in whispers

”I 'low,” said the second hand, with a scared glance about, ”that the ol' man will--will _do_ it--the morrow”

The three averted their eyes--each froasped

Meanti hiale the morrow”

”Ay,” said the skipper, uneasily; ”an' there's like t' be lass”

”There'll be few craft out o' harbour”

”Few craft, To a ti red beard ”I'le_ t'

sea”

”'Tis like there'll be fog,” the clerk continued

”Ay; 'tis like there'll be a bit o' fog”

Skipper and clerk helped themselves to another draift? Perhaps Tom Tulk understood the hearts of new-made rascals At any rate, skipper and clerk, both simple fellows, after all, were presently heartened

Too ashore an' say you'll take the _Black Eagle_ t' sea the h or blo, fair wind or foul”

The skipper looked up in bewilder ”Tell 'eh by Sir Archibald for lyin' in harbour”