"
"So ye won't go?" and Tom raised his eyes appealingly to the captain's
face. "Fer God's sake, do, or my Sammy'll die."
"Certainly I'll go, Tom, jist as soon as I git ready. You call at the
rectory on yer way back, and tell the Royals that Rod won't be home
to-night, fer I must have him with me. It'll take two to handle the
_Roarin' Bess_. I know they won't mind so long's the boy's with me."
"It's good of ye, and I shan't soon----"
"There, keep that fer some other time, Tom Dunker," the captain
interrupted. "I can't be bothered with sich nonsense now. Where's my
oil-skins, Betsey?" and he turned to his wife. "Better let Rod have
that old suit of mine; he might need it before we git back."
Rod was delighted with the idea of a run on the river on such a night.
He had often imagined what it would be like to be out there in the
_Roaring Bess_ with a strong wind blowing. To him, fear was unknown
when on the water, especially when the captain was along. And so as
the yacht left her mooring, and headed down-stream, he sat in the
cock-pit and peered ahead into the darkness, pleased that he was on
watch to give warning of any approaching vessel.
A strong wind was racing in from the east, giving the captain a busy
time in handling the boat.
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