"It is so named," continued the Captain, "because the creature has the advantage of having several bodies instead of one, all radiating from a single stem, like fingers or toes. But now, I think, there's nothing much of any good left of our shoot, save a few oysters. Those will come in handy presently, eh, Strong?"

"Yes, I shan't mind," replied the barrister. "I'm beginning to have an appet.i.te, I think."

"We'll have luncheon at once then," said the old sailor with alacrity, as if this would be a labour of love. "I'm not beginning to have an appet.i.te, because I've got one already, and a precious good one, too!

Do you think you can pick a bit if you try, eh, young people?"

"Yes, please," replied Nell. Master Bob's response was a shout of "Rather," fully indicative of his feelings; while d.i.c.k grinned so much that his face was a study as he said "Y-es, sir, sure-ly!"

Taking all these evidences as proof of the unanimity of the company on the subject, the Captain, all helping, at once set about the preparations for the coming feast. He first, however, tied up the pocket of the trawl again, preparatory to heaving it overboard; so that they could "kill two birds with one stone," as he said, and be fishing and eating at the same time.

Each had something to do after this important operation.

d.i.c.k began by sc.r.a.ping some soles which the Captain selected from the number he had put aside for Mrs Gilmour. Next, Master Bob washed these in a bucket of water he had procured from over the side of the cutter in sailor fashion; and then handing them to the Captain, who officiated as "master of the kitchen," over the gridiron in the "fo'c's'le,"--the old sailor cooked away quite cheerfully, in spite of having to bend himself almost in two in the little cabin in order to attend to his task properly, his zeal preventing him for the moment from feeling any inconvenience from stooping so much.

Nell, who had been debarred from any share in preparing the fish or looking after its grilling, which, certainly, she would infinitely have preferred, contented herself with arranging the four small plates which were all that the cutter's locker contained in the way of crockery-ware, besides a similar number of cups of various hues and shapes.

All of these articles the young lady set out systematically on a board which the Captain fixed across the thwarts to serve as a table; while, as for Mr Strong, all he did in the way of a.s.sistance was to set himself down on the most comfortable seat he could find in the stern- sheets, where, lighting his pipe, he beguiled the weary moments until lunch should be ready as best he could, smoking and thinking!

He had not to wait long; for presently, with much dignity the Captain served up his first instalment of soles, which were declared by the barrister to be so good that another cooking was necessary; aye, and another too after that, until there was not a single sole left.

"Poor aunt Polly!" exclaimed Nellie, laughing merrily when they were all consumed, and the bones of the fish chucked overboard to feed their brethren below. "All her soles are gone! What shall we tell her?"

"Why, that we ate them," said the Captain, starting the laugh, and all joining in.

d.i.c.k, who was at the moment devouring the last crust of bread left, after finishing his portion of the fish, nearly choked himself by bursting into a guffaw while in the act of swallowing; so, this necessitated the Captain's administering to him a cup of sea-water wherewith to wash down the morsel sticking in his throat, which did not taste nice after grilled sole, though the Captain said it was "as good as grog."

They did not have much sport after luncheon, the next cast of the net bringing up nothing but boulders and mud, besides an old bottle that must have been dropped into the sea years before and, mayhap, went down with Kempenfeldt in the _Royal George_; for it was encrusted with seaweed and barnacles of almost a century's growth.

After a bit, seeing that nothing further was to be gained by stopping out at sea, drifting with the tide alternately between the Nab and Warner light-ships, like Mahomet's coffin between heaven and earth, the Captain hauled up the trawl and bore away back homeward as well as he could with a foul wind, having to make several tacks before fetching the cutter's moorings off the coastguard-station.

In spite of this, however, they reached "the Moorings" in time for dinner; when, notwithstanding their hearty luncheon, no deficiency of appet.i.te could be observed in any of the party.

Bob and Nellie were, of course, delighted with their experiences of the day; for, in addition to the joys of trawling and festive picnic on the water, which they thought even better than their previous one on land, they brought home a splendid "soldier crab," who caused much subsequent amus.e.m.e.nt when admitted to the aquarium, two new specimens of sea- anemones, and the "dead man's fingers," whose name made their aunt Polly shiver, the good lady declaring it "quite uncanny, sure."

Their mother, however, was not quite so well-pleased with the result of the expedition.

"There, I told you so!" she exclaimed, on catching sight of them, with the stains of the cuttle-fish plainly visible on their clothes. "You will never wish to wear this suit again, Bob; and, dear, dear, look at your dress, Nellie!"

"It's not so bad, mamma," pleaded she. "I only got a little of it."

"A little of what?"

"The Tyrian dye, Captain Dresser called it, from the cuttle-fish,"

explained Bob, who seemed to treat the matter more lightly than the spoiling of his shirt-front and jacket deserved in Mrs Strong's opinion. "It's quite cla.s.sical, mother--so the Captain said when I got squelched with it."

"Really, I wish Captain Dresser would not make experiments with his dyes when you two are near him," said she, very plaintively. "He hasn't to look after your clothes, as I have."

Nell smiled at her mother's mistake, while Master Bob fairly screeched with laughter.

"Why, it wasn't the Captain who did it," he shouted out gleefully. "It was the cuttle-fish that squirted over us."

Then, on the whole story being told her, Mrs Strong exonerated the Captain.

But not so Mrs Gilmour, when she learnt the history of the soles, which had been specially set aside for her and afterwards eaten.

"Oh, you cormorants!" she cried, pretending to be in a great rage.

"Fancy eating my soles! Did you ever hear of such a thing? Captain Dresser, I'll never forgive you!"

"Don't be so hard-hearted," said he imploringly. "If you only knew how hungry we were, I'm sure you would forgive us with your usual good- nature."

"I'm not so certain of that," replied she. "'Deed, and I won't."

"Besides, we enjoyed them so, do you know," continued the old sailor, chuckling away at a fine rate. "Sure they were mighty fine, ma'am. The best soles I ivver ate, sure."

"That makes the matter worse, you robber!" she retorted, smiling good- naturedly at his broad mimicry of her Irish p.r.o.nunciation. "Why, ye're adding insult now to injury, sure."

"Never mind, Polly," interposed her brother, acting as peacemaker between the two. "The Captain will show you how to cook soles properly the next time he catches any."

"Yes," said Mrs Gilmour drily, "if he doesn't ate them first."

"By Jove, I promise not to do that, ma'am, for I don't like 'em raw,"

replied the offender, keeping up the fun, and not one whit abashed by these comments on his behaviour. "Really, though, ma'am, I think you ought to forgive me now, and banish your hard feelings, as you've given me a wigging. Besides, if we did eat all the soles, I've brought you home a fine big skate, and lots of plaice, instead."

"Sure, I'll consider about it," said his hostess, showing signs of relenting. "But don't you think, now, skates are rather out of place in this warm weather, eh, Captain?"

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

MISSING!

"Humph! that makes the rubber," cried the Captain late one evening, some little time after the events recorded in the last chapter, when they were winding up the day with a game of whist, which had succeeded the nightly battle of cribbage wherewith Mrs Gilmour and the old sailor used to amuse their leisure before the advent of the barrister and Mrs Strong on the scene. "What say all you good people to a trip to Southampton to-morrow? There will be an excursion steamer running there in the morning, starting from the old pier at ten o'clock sharp, I think."

"All right; now you've beaten us, I suppose you want to appear generous, and divert our attention from our defeat," said Mrs Dugald Strong, with a fine touch of sarcasm, as the Captain chuckled over the odd trick, and collected the spoils of war, in the shape of sundry little fish- counters, which he and his partner, aunt Polly, had won, through the old sailor's successful manipulation of the cards. "I believe we've seen all that is to be seen in the isle of Wight."

"Indade you have," corroborated Mrs Gilmour. "We've been everywhere in the sweet little place--no wonder it's called the 'garden of England'!

Sure we've seen everything, from the broken grating of the window which poor Charles the First was unable to squaze himself through at Carisbrook Castle, being too fat, poor man, down to the hawthorn-bush at Faringford over against Beacon Down atop of the Needles, where Tennyson used to hide his long clay pipes after smoking them, before going out for his walk on the cliff. Sure, and I don't think, Dugald, there's anything more for ye to see there at all, at all!"

"Oh, auntie, you have forgotten 'little Jane's' grave in the pretty old churchyard at Brading, and the cottage in which the good 'dairyman's daughter' lived at Arreton," chimed in Nellie, who was more romantic.

"Yes, and those dear little Swiss villas too, at Totland Bay, aunt Polly, peeping out from the fir-trees and bracken, with the fuchsias like big trees in their front gardens, and the scarlet geraniums growing wild in the hedgerows!"

"Ah," said Master Bob, "I liked the smugglers' cave at Ventnor. I wish they hadn't boarded it up, so that a fellow can't see where they used to hide the cargoes of silk and lace and kegs of brandy the French luggers brought across from Saint Malo--wasn't that where they ran them from, Captain?"

"Aye," replied the old sailor. "They don't now, though, my boy. Our coastguardsmen are too sharp for that, and the mounseers have to find another market for their goods! But are you all agreed about our paying a visit to Southampton to-morrow, my friends?"

"It's a long voyage," observed Mrs Gilmour, who, although she had forsworn her resolve anent excursion steamers in her desire not to interpose any selfish obstacle, such as her own wishes, to the enjoyment of the others during their holiday by the sea in proper seafaring fashion, yet could not forget the _Bembridge Belle_ catastrophe. "Are you sure the vessel is safe?"

"Oh yes," answered the Captain. "She's one of the regular boats, and is as safe as a man-of-war."