g
gentleman look well you'll be able to find plenty of things to fill your
bottles, without going abroad."

"Can't be done, Mrs Champernowne," said Uncle Paul smiling. "Dartmoor
isn't the West Coast of Africa, nor yet the Cape of Good Hope, so, much
as we have enjoyed being here, we shall have to say good-bye, and live
in hopes of coming to see you again some day, for I haven't half worked
out the moor, nor yet a hundredth part."

"I am very, very, very sorry," said the old lady again, "but no doubt,
sir, you know best. When do you think of going, sir?"

"To-morrow morning, Mrs Champernowne. We can't let the grass grow
under our feet, can we, Rodd?"

"No, uncle," was the reply; and the next morning the portmanteau was
packed, the fishing-rod and naturalist's nets tied up in a neat bundle,
a light spring cart was drawn up at the door, and uncle and nephew were
soon on their way to the cross roads to take their chance of finding
room upon the Plymouth coach, which came within a few miles of the
widow's cottage.

They were fortunate, as it happened, and that evening they were safely
back at Uncle Paul's home, a pleasant little country house on the high
grounds overlooking the glorious harbour dotted with vessels, which
included several of the King's men-of-war, and within easy reach of the
docks.

"Ah," cried Uncle Paul that evening, as he strolled out into his garden,
in company with Rodd, who was carrying a telescope that looked like a
small cannon; "that was a fine air up on the moor, my boy, but nothing
like this. Take a good long deep breath. Can't you smell the salt and
the seaweed? Doesn't it set you longing to be off?"

"Well--yes, uncle," replied the boy, smiling and screwing up his face
till it was all wrinkled about the eyes; "but I begin to be a bit
afraid."

"Afraid, sir? What of?"

"That I shan't turn out such a good sailor as I should like to be."

"Why, what do you mean? Now, look here, Rodd; don't you tell me that
you want to back out of going upon this trip."

"Oh no, uncle," cried the boy eagerly. "I want to go, of course!"

"But what are you afraid of?"

"Well, you see, uncle, coasting about with you in a fisherman's lugger
for a few days, and always keeping within sight of land, is one thing;
going right away across the ocean is quite another."

"Well, sir, who said it wasn't?" cried Uncle Paul. "What then?"

"Suppose I turn ill, uncle?"

"Well, sir, suppose you do. Am I