The Ocean Cats Paw | Page 5

fly-rod before--Did you see anything of him?"
"Eh? What?" said another voice sharply, and a fresh comer suddenly appeared upon the scene in the shape of Uncle Paul, who stared in astonishment at the group as he stepped into the little amphitheatre from behind the rocks.
His appearance acted like magic upon the soldiers, who brought their muskets to the carry, while the sergeant sprang to attention and saluted.
"After escaped prisoners, sir. Asking the young gentleman if he had got one of them up here."
"Pooh! Nonsense! Absurd!" cried the gentleman addressed, just as Rodd brought his fish to land and went down on one knee to grip it in his left hand. "Prisoners, no!" literally barked the fresh comer, setting down his bottle and net, and taking off his straw hat to wipe his streaming face with a big yellow and red bandanna handkerchief. "Here, Rodd, boy," he cried, with a chuckle, "empty your pockets and then open your creel and show the sergeant how many prisoners you have caught. Hot up here, my lad!" he continued, and the sergeant and men grinned. "Thirsty?"
"Yes, sir," said the sergeant, grinning; "pretty tidy. We have had a precious good run."
"Well, there's plenty of beautiful water. Shall I lend you my drinking-cup?"
"Thankye, sir," said the sergeant.
"Thankye, indeed!" said the bluff speaker, with a chuckle, and he thrust his hand into his pocket. "There you are; there's a shilling for you to get some cider. I dare say you know where better than I can tell you. No, we have seen no prisoners."
"Thank you, sir! You are a gentleman," said the sergeant. "Didn't want to interfere with the young gent's sport, but we had got our duty to do. Left face, my lads! Forward!" And the next minute the military party were on the tramp, to pass through the entrance to the little amphitheatre and disappear, just as Uncle Paul was lowering himself gently down upon a huge boulder stone and dragging round the wallet which hung from his right shoulder.
"Phew!" he gasped. "Pretty job I have had to find you, Pickle! I took a short cut, as I thought, and it proved a long one. I have had a round. Aren't you hungry, boy?"
"Starving, uncle," replied the lad, as he dropped the fish into the creel, hooked his fly on to one of the rings, and tightened the line. "But let's come out here on to the heath. It will be more soft and comfortable to sit down."
"Bah!" barked Uncle Paul. "I am not going to stir again till I have had something to eat and a rest. There, lay your rod down. Bother the soldiers! There was another party of them out yonder, shouted at me to stop, and because I didn't, made as if they were going to fire. Yes, they had better! But I had to stop; and then they began questioning me about their escaped French prisoners, and wanted to know who I was and where I was going, and I thought that they were going to make me a prisoner and march me off yonder, only I showed them my card and asked them if I sounded like a French prisoner. They were civil then, and I gave them a shilling. That's two shillings I have fooled away out here on this moor, where I should have said it wasn't possible for a man to spend a farthing. Come on; help yourself," and he held out the wallet for his companion to take one of the big sandwiches it contained.
"I think we had better go on outside, uncle," said the boy. "There's more breeze out there, and the rocks don't reflect the heat."
"Do you?" said Uncle Paul, with his mouth full. "There's quite wind enough in here to keep me alive, and I am so hot I don't want to go out to be blown on and catch cold.--My word, the old lady didn't forget the mustard! Come, eat away, Pickle. Let's start fair, or you will soon be a sandwich behind. My word, what an appetite this air does give one!"
"Yes, uncle," said the boy, who, in spite of an effort to control himself, could not help darting an anxious glance from time to time at the opening between the rocks.
"Capital sandwiches, Pickle," continued the uncle, eating away with the most intense enjoyment. "One doesn't want any other pickle with these. What does the old proverb say--Hunger's sweet sauce. Hullo! what are you getting up for?"
"Oh, I am going on eating, uncle," replied the boy. "I was only going to walk to the end and see how far the soldiers had gone."
"Hang the soldiers, sir!" cried the elder irascibly. "I wish they'd keep in their barracks instead of coming hunting their prisoners all over this beautiful countryside. Sit down