Three Boys | Page 6

seized the tiller, and the next minute they were gliding through
the water, trying how near the duck-shaped boat would sail to the wind.
For the next half-hour they were tacking to and fro right in the course
of the coming steamer, till, judging their distance pretty well, sail was
lowered, oars put out, and they rowed till the faces which crowded the
forward part of the swift boat were plain to see. Soon after, while the
cloud of smoke seemed to have become ten times more black, and the
cloud of gulls which accompanied the steamer by contrast more white,
the paddles ceased churning up the clear water and sending it astern in
foam, a couple of men in blue jerseys stood ready to throw a rope,
which Scood caught, and turned round the thwart forward, and
Kenneth stood up, gazing eagerly at the little crowd by the paddle-box.
"How are you, captain?"
"How are you, squire?"
"Any one for us?"
"Yes. Young gent for Dunroe," said a man with a gold-braided cap.
"Where is he?"
"Here just now. Here's his luggage," said one of the men in blue jerseys.
"There he is."

"Now then, sir! Look alive, please."
"But--"
"This way, sir."
"Must I--must I get down?--that small boat!"
Kenneth stared at the pallid-looking youth, who stood shrinking back,
almost in wonder, as the visitor clung to the gangway rail, and gazed in
horror at the boat dancing in the foaming water.
"Ketch hold."
"All right."
There was the rapid passing down of luggage--portmanteau, hat-box,
bag, gun-case, sheaf of fishing-rods, and bale of wrappers; and, as
Scood secured these, Kenneth held out his hand.
"Come along," he said. "It's all right."
"But--"
"Look sharp, sir, please; we can't stop all day."
Evidently in an agony of dread and shame, the stranger stepped down
into the boat, staggered, clung to Kenneth, and, as he was forced down
to a seat, clung to it with all his might. Scood cast off the rope; the
captain on the bridge made his bell ting in the engine-room, a burst of
foam came rushing from beneath the paddle-box, the little boat danced
up and down, the great steamer glided rapidly on, and Kenneth and
Scoodrach gazed in an amused way at the new occupant of the boat.
"We've been waiting for you--hours," said Kenneth at last. "How are
you?"
"I'm quite well, thank--I mean, I'm not at all well, thank you," said the
visitor, shaking hands limply, and then turning to look at Scood, as if

wondering whether he should shake hands there.
"That's only Scood, my gillie," said Kenneth hastily. "Did we get all
your luggage?"
"I--I don't know," said the visitor in a helpless way. "I hope so. At least,
I don't mind. It has been such a rough passage!"
"Rough?" shouted Kenneth.
"Yes; terribly. The steamer went up and down so. I felt very ill."
"Been beautiful here. Now, Scood, don't sit staring there. Shove some
of those things forward and some aft."
Scood jumped up, the boat gave a lurch, and the visitor uttered a gasp.
"Mind!" he cried.
"Oh, he's all right," said Kenneth bluffly. "When he has no shoes on he
can hold by his toes. Come and sit aft."
"No, thank you; I would rather not move. I did not know it would be so
rough at sea, or I would have come by train."
"Train! You couldn't come to Dunroe by train."
"Couldn't I?"
"No."
"Oh!--Are you Mr Kenneth Mackhai?"
"I'm Kenneth Mackhai," said the lad rather stiffly. "My father asked me
to come and meet you--and, er--we're very glad to see you."
"Thank you. It was very kind of you; but I am not used to the sea, and I
should have preferred landing at the pier and coming on in a cab or a
fly."

"Pier! There's no pier near us."
"No pier? But never mind. You are very good. Would you mind setting
me ashore now?"
"Ashore! What for?"
"To--to go on to the house. I would rather walk."
Kenneth laughed, and then checked himself.
"It's ten miles' sail from here home, and it would be twenty round by
the mountain-road. We always go by boat."
"By boat? In this boat?" faltered the visitor.
"Yes. She skims along like a bird."
"Then--I couldn't--walk?"
"Walk? No. We'll soon run you home. Sorry it was so rough. But there's
a lovely wind now. Come aft here, and we'll hoist the sail. That's right,
Scood. Now there's room to move."
"Could--could you call back the steamer?" said the stranger hoarsely.
"Call her back? No; she's a mile away nearly. Look!"
The visitor gave a despairing stare at the steamer, and the wake of
foam she had left behind.
"You will be all right directly," said Kenneth, suppressing his