CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
WE HAVE A LITTLE FISHING.
I went away to see if I could find Bigley, feeling very much put out, and full of hope that Bob Chowne, when he came, would not ask me to take him to see the mine.
For, truth to tell, I had made rather a fuss about that mine, talking about silver-lead in a very important way at school; and, as I recalled my words, I felt quite a shudder of horror as I thought of all the boys in my class coming and standing at the mouth of the mine, and bursting into a roar of laughter at this being the silver cavern in the earth.
There was no likelihood of any of them coming save Bob Chowne; but there was no knowing what he would say when we got back if I offended him and he was in one of his teasing fits.
I walked down to the end of the Gap, past the cottage, and was just going to ask if Bigley had come back, when I saw old Jonas and Binnacle Bill, with another man, putting off in the lugger, which was lying by a buoy about a quarter of a mile from the shore.
After five months at school it seemed such a pretty sight to see the red sails hoisted and fill out, and the lugger begin to move slowly over the smooth water, that I sat down on a stone and watched the boat, wishing I were in her, till she gradually grew more distant, and there was a dull thud close beside me.
I looked round but saw nothing, and I was turning to watch the lugger again, when I heard a fresh pat on the slate rubbish by me, and soon after a piece of flat, thin shale struck the clatter stream behind me.
"Some one throwing," I said to myself, and looking up, there, about six hundred feet above me on the cliff path, were Bigley and Bob Chowne.
I shouted to them, and they ran to the nearest clatter stream and began to slide down standing.

Sometimes they came swiftly for a few yards; sometimes they stopped and each had a check, a fall, and a roll over, but they were up again directly, and in less than half the time it would have taken them to walk they were down by my side.
"Here, where have you been ?" cried Bob, who was in the highest of glee.
"Old Big says it's such a dark quiet day that the fish are sure to bite, and he's going to ask his father to let us have the boat, and row out." "But Mr Uggleston isn't at home." "No, that he isn't," said Bigley, who had just caught sight of the lugger.

"That is tiresome." "But they haven't taken the boat," cried Bob, "so it don't matter." "Yes, it does," said Bigley gravely, "because I shouldn't like to take the boat without leave." "Why, of course you wouldn't if your father was at home," said Bob quickly; "but I'm quite sure Mr Uggleston wouldn't like us two to be disappointed when we'd come on purpose to go." "Oh, I don't think he'd mind," said Bigley.
"But I know he would," cried Bob, who spoke in the most consequential manner.

"Your father is rough, but he is very good at bottom." "Why, of course he is," cried Bigley.
"Then he wouldn't like us to be cheated out of our treat, so you get the mussels for the bait, and some worms, and let's go." Bigley hesitated.

He wanted to go, for the sea was as smooth as a mill-pond--a rare thing in winter; and perhaps we should have to wait for some time before another such day arrived.
He looked at me and I wanted to go too.