used to be."

"What, sir? Nonsense, sir! A little heavy and--er--short-winded
perhaps, but never better or more full of fight in my life, sir. The
scoundrels! Oh, if I had been there! But I feel hurt, Nic--cruelly
hurt. You and that salt-soaked old villain, Bill Sally, hatch up these
things between you. Want to make out I'm infirm. I'll discharge that
vagabond."

"No, you will not, father. He's too good and faithful a servant. He
thinks of nothing but his old Captain's health."

"A scoundrel! and so he ought to. Wasn't he at sea with me for
five-and-twenty years--wrecked with me three times?--But you, Nic, to
mutiny against your father!"

"No, no, father; I assure you I knew nothing whatever about it till I
came down this morning."

"And you'd have woke me if you had known?"

"Of course I would, father."

"Thank you, Nic--thank you. To be sure: you gave me your word of honour
you would. But as for that ruffian Bill Solly, I'll blow him out of the
water."

"Better let it rest, father," said Nic. "We escaped a bad fight
perhaps. I believe there was a gang of fifteen or twenty of the
scoundrels, and I'd rather they had all the fish in the sea than that
you should be hurt."

"Thank you, Nic; thank you, my boy. That's very good of you; but I
can't, and I will not, lie by and have my fish cleared away like this."

"There'll be more as soon as the rain comes again in the moors, and
these are gone now."

"Yes, and sold--perhaps eaten by this time, eh?"

"Yes, father; and there's as good fish in the sea."

"As ever came out of it--eh, Nic?"

"Yes, father; so let the matter drop."

"Can't help myself, Nic; but I must have a turn at the enemy one of
these times. I cannot sit down and let them attack me like this. Oh,
I'd dearly like to blow some of 'em out of the water!"

"Better put a bag of powder under the rock, father, and blow away the
falls so that the salmon can always get up, and take the temptation away
from these idle scoundrels."

"I'd sooner put the powder under my own bed, sir, and blow myself up.
No, Nic, I will not strike my colours to the miserable gang like that.
Oh! I'd dearly like to know when they are going to make their next
raid, and then have my old crew to lie in wait for them."

"And as that's impossible, father--"

"We must grin and bear it, Nic--eh?"

"Yes, father."

"But only wait!"

CHAPTER SIX.

PLOTS AND PLANS.

The rain came, as Nic had said