Part 19 (1/2)
”She belongs to us.”
”To you?” replied the man, apparently much astonished.
”Yes, sir; she was given to us by Captain Littleton.”
”O, ho! so you are Paul Duncan.”
”Yes, sir.”
”And I understand why he gave it to you. Come, boys, you must go up to my house and stay with me to-night. I should rather have Paul Duncan under my roof than the governor of the state.”
”We must stay on board, sir, to look out for the boat. If anything should happen to her in the night, I should never forgive myself for deserting her. We have a nice place to sleep,” continued Paul, opening the doors of the cuddy, and pointing to the two berths.
”That looks very comfortable, but there is not much fun in sleeping on board a small boat such a night as this will be. But come up to the house, and have some supper.”
”Thank you, sir; we will do that, for we are both very hungry. Stop a moment. John, hand out two or three of those rock-cod. Won't you take these, sir?”
”I am much obliged to you for them. Though we live so near the fish we don't have much time to catch them,” replied Mr. Drake,--for that was the name of the farmer,--as he threw the fish into his skiff.
The two boys got into the boat with him, and he rowed them on sh.o.r.e.
They were warmly welcomed by Mrs. Drake and the children, and a nice supper was soon placed before them; but all the arguments and expostulations of the farmer and his wife could not induce them to spend the night at the house. Paul was too fearful in regard to the safety of the Fawn to leave her, and John was too deeply smitten with the romantic idea of sleeping on board, to think of spending the night in any other manner. Mr. Drake, therefore, reluctantly put them on board their boat again.
”Now, Paul, we are in for it,” said John, as he saw the farmer land, and draw up his skiff upon the beach.
”Yes, and it is going to be a very dirty night. I think the wind has s.h.i.+fted since we went ash.o.r.e,” replied Paul.
”So do I; we feel it as much again as we did.”
”It blows full as hard as it has any time to-day.”
The boys sat down in the standing room, and had a long talk about home and mother, and wondered what she would think because they didn't come home. It was now quite dark, and there was not a single star to relieve the gloom of the scene. John even went so far as to admit that it ”looked kind of pokerish,” and he was glad they were in so comfortable a place.
”Come, Paul, isn't it time to turn in?” asked John, after they had come to the unanimous conclusion that it was a decidedly stormy night.
”You can turn in, John, if you want to,” replied Paul.
”Ain't you going to sleep any to-night?”
”I have no idea of leaving the Fawn to take care of herself in such weather as this.”
”Are you going to sit up all night?” asked John.
”It isn't customary, I believe, on board s.h.i.+p, for all hands to turn in, and let the vessel take her chance.”
”There is no danger here.”
”If we both go to sleep, we may wake up and find ourselves nowhere.
Suppose the wind should change to the eastward; we should be fully exposed to all the fury of the storm.”
”I didn't think of that. Suppose we watch by turns, then.”