one of your tea," said Philip.

"Coorse not, none of your ould grannie's two-penny tay," said Pete.

It was quite dark by this time, and the tide was rising rapidly.
There was not a star in the sky, and not a light on the sea except
the revolving light of the lightship far a Way. The boys crept closer
together and began to think of home. Philip remembered Aunty Nan. When
he had stolen away on hands and knees under the parlour window she had
been sewing at his new check night-shirt. A night-shirt for a Carrasdhoo
man had seemed to be ridiculous then; but where was Aunty Nannie now?
Pete remembered his mother--she would be racing round the houses and
crying; and he had visions of Black Tom--he would be racing round also
and swearing.

"Shouldn't we sing something, Phil?" said Pete, with a gurgle in his
throat.

"Sing!" said Philip, with as much scorn as he could summon, "and give
them warning we're watching for them! Well, you _are_ a pretty, Mr.
Pete! But just you wait till the ships goes wrecking on the rocks--I
mean the reefs--and the dead men's coming up like corks--hundreds and
ninety and dozens of them; my jove! yes, then you'll hear me singing."

The darkness deepened, and the voice of the sea began to moan through
the back of the cave, the gorse crackled no longer, and the turf burned
in a dull red glow. Night with its awfulness had come down, and the boys
were cut off from everything.

"They don't seem to be coming--not yet," said Philip, in a husky
whisper.

"Maybe it's the same as fishing," said Pete; "sometimes you catch and
sometimes you don't."

"That's it," said Philip eagerly, "generally you don't--and then you
both haves to go home and come again," he added nervously.

But neither of the boys stirred. Outside the glow of the fire the
blackness looked terrible. Pete nuzzled up to Philip's side, and, being
untroubled by imaginative fears, soon began to feel drowsy. The sound of
his measured breathing startled Philip with the terror of loneliness.

"Honour bright, Mr. Pete," he faltered, nudging the head on his
shoulder, and trying to keep his voice from shaking; "_you_ call
yourself a second mate, and leaving all the work to me!"

The second mate was penitent, but in less than half a minute more he was
committing the same offence again. "It isn't no use," he said, "I'm that
sleepy you never seen."

"Then let's both take the watch below i'stead," said Philip, and they
proceeded to stretch them