t want to come to the old lead pump and see your father's
people make the water muddy. What are you going to do?"

"Sword drill."

"Oh! I don't care for sword drill."

"Bigley's coming too," I said; "and we're going through it all."

"It's stupid work standing all in a row swinging your arms about like
windmills, chopping nothing, and poking at the air, and pretending that
someone's trying to stab you. I wouldn't mind if it was real fighting,
but yours is all sham."

"Then we're going to do some pistol-shooting at a mark with
ball-cartridge."

"Pooh! It's all fudge!" said Bob yawning. "I wouldn't mind coming if
you were going to do something with real guns."

"Why, they're real pistols."

"Pistols! Yes--pop-guns. I mean big cannons."

"Ah, well," I said, "I'm sorry you will not come, but I must go."

"That's always the way when a fellow comes away from our old physic-shop
and takes the trouble to walk all these miles. You're always either out
or going out."

"I can't help it, Bob," I replied, feeling rather ill-used. "My father
expects me. I have to help him now. You know I like a game as well as
ever I did."

"Ah, well, it don't matter. Be off."

"I'm very sorry," I said, glancing at the old eight-day clock; "but I
must go now."

"Well, didn't I say, Be off?" cried Bob.

"Good-bye, then!"

I offered him my hand, but he did not take it.

"If you'll walk round by the cliff I'll come part of the way with you,"
he said ill-humouredly.

"Will you?" I cried. "Come along, then."

I did not let him see it, but I had felt all the time that Master Bob
meant to come. He had played that game so many times that I knew him by
heart. I knew, too, that he was wonderfully fond of the sword practice,
in which he had taken part whenever he could, and to get a shot with a
pistol or a gun gave him the greatest pleasure.

"He won't come away till it's all over," I said to myself; and we walked
on round by the high track watching the ships going up to Bristol, till
all at once, as we rounded the corner leading into the Gap, Bob
exclaimed:

"Why, there's old Jonas's boat coming in!"

"Where?" I said dubiously.

"Why, out there, stupid!" cried Bob, pointing north-west.

"What! That lugger?" I said. "No, that's not his. He went out four
days ago, and isn't expected back yet. That's more like the French
lugger we rode in--Captain Gualtiere's."

"Yah! Nonsense!"

"Well, but it is," I said