asin rattle faintly, and after turning over
three or four times I made up my mind that it was impossible to sleep,
so I would dress, and then go and wake Bigley and sit and talk.

I had just made up my mind to this, as it seemed to me, when Bigley
stood in the doorway and said:

"Now, Sep, old fellow, wake up."

I started up in bed and stared, for the room was flooded with sunshine,
and I knew that I must have been sound asleep, while from across the
passage came the regular pace of my father walking up and down, and the
jug clattered in the basin.

"Has he been walking up and down all night?" I said sleepily.

"Oh, no!" said Bigley. "I have only just called him, and heard him get
up. But make haste. It's a splendid morning, and the sea's like
glass."

"And the skin's all off my heel," I said; "and it's as sore as sore, and
so is one of my toes."

"Sep!" shouted my father just then; "make haste down, and tell Ellen
that we want the breakfast as early as possible."

"Yes, father," I said; but at the same moment Kicksey's voice came up
the stairs as she heard what he said, and it was to announce that
breakfast would be ready in ten minutes' time.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

TREASURES FROM THE DEEP.

It was a glorious morning. There had been no wind for nearly three
weeks beyond pleasant summer breezes, and the water was as clear as
crystal, which is not so very often the case on our shore.

My father had soon completed his preparations, there being a fine larch
in the woody part of the Gap; and this was soon felled, stripped, and
cleared of branch and bark. Bigley soon found a suitable rope and block
in his father's store, and a couple of boats were got ready, with a
suitable bag of rough canvas, in which several holes were cut out so as
to allow the water to pass readily through.

All this was got ready in a couple of hours, three pigs of lead were
placed in the boat, in case one would be lost, and with the foreman to
help, and a couple of men to pull, we set off from the beach with no
lookers-on, and in a short time we were fast to the line that marked the
spot where the boxes were supposed to lie.

Bigley gave vent to a sigh of satisfaction, for he had been in a
terrible fidget, telling me over and over again that he was sure the
boat-hook which served as a buoy had been washed away, and totally
forgetting that the cluster of rocks known as the Goat and Kids were so
familiar to the fishermen about