the roaring of the
storm, which was still beating round the great hotel; and they had just
finished and were talking about going outside to see what the weather
was like, when a very familiar gruff voice saluted their ears, as the
waiter showed Captain Chubb into the room.
"Oh, here you are," he grunted. "Come ashore to look after you. 'Fraid
you were lost."
"We are very glad to see you," said Uncle Paul. "Sit down. We thought
it was not safe to try and get aboard."
"Well, it aren't very," said the skipper; "but we come in the boat to
make sure you weren't both drowned, and if you'll risk it I think I can
get you round by keeping under the lee of two or three vessels."
"What do you say, Rodd?" asked Uncle Paul. "Shall we risk it?"
"Oh, I don't think that there'll be much risk, uncle, if Captain Chubb
considers it safe. I don't mind going with him."
The skipper gave the boy a nod and looked pleased; then nodding at Uncle
Paul he said quietly--
"As we were ashore I told the men to get a few stores down to the boat,
and that I'd meet them here. I dare say Joe Cross will be an hour, and
by that time it will have lulled a bit, or else be a deal worse, and
we'll see."
It took very little persuasion to make the skipper partake of some of
the hotel fare, and naturally enough the conversation turned upon the
incident that had lately taken place.
"Yes," said Captain Chubb, "the skipper of that craft has got some stuff
in him, and he knew how to navigate his boat. I could have done it if
I'd been obliged, but I should have wanted a deal of shoving before I
hoisted sail. Storm was bad enough, and no room to tack; but what I
shouldn't have liked was being fired at by two boats' crews and three or
four forts. I know what being fired at is, young squire," continued the
captain, giving Rodd a very peculiar look out of one eye, after closing
the other, "and you may take my word for it it aren't nice."
"What, have you been out in a man-of-war?" asked Rodd eagerly.
"Nay, my lad, but several of our fellows have, and if you ask them, they
can tell you what it's like too."
"Then you never were fired at?" said Rodd questioningly.
"Who says I warn't? I tell you I was, though it wasn't by forts. It
was a Revenue cutter got trying to hit me."
"What, smuggling?" cried Rodd.
"Nay! Smuggling, indeed! It was her skipper--Lieutenant somebody or
another--I forget his name--say Smith. He made a blunder,
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