"oh, bother the old books!"

and as if to bother them, though more likely to break their backs, lance penwith closed two with a sharp clap, rose from his seat at the table, and then, holding one flat in each hand, he walked round behind his cousin, who was bent over another, with his elbows on the study-table, a finger in each ear, and his eyes shut as if to keep in the passage he was committing to memory. but the next moment he had started up, hurting his knees, and stood glaring angrily at lance, who was roaring with laughter.

for the hearty-looking sunburned boy had passed behind his fellow-student's chair with the intention of putting his books on one of the shelves, but seeing his opportunity, a grin of enjoyment lit up his face, and taking a step back, he stood just at his cousin's back, and brought the two books he carried together, cymbal fashion, but with all his might, and so close to the reader's head that the air was stirred and the sharp crack made him spring up in alarm.

"what did you do that for?"

"to wake you up, alfy. there, put 'em away now, and let's go down to the cliff."

"and leave my lessons half done?—don't you do that again. you won't be happy till i've given you a sound thrashing."

"shouldn't be happy then," said lance, with a laugh; "and besides, you couldn't do it, alfy, my lad, without i lay down to let you."

"what! i couldn't?"

"not you. haven't got strength enough. jolly old molly-coddle, why don't you come out and bathe and climb and fish?"

"and hang about the dirty old pilchard houses and among the drying hake, and mix with the rough old smugglers and wreckers."

"how do you know they're smugglers and wreckers?"

"everybody says they are, and uncle would be terribly angry if i told him all i know about your goings on."

"tell him, then: i don't care. father doesn't want me to spend all my time with my nose in a book, my eyes shut, and my ears corked up with fingers."

"uncle wants you to know what mr. grimston teaches us."

"course he does. well, i know my bits."

"you don't: you can't. you haven't been at work an hour."

"yes, i have; we sat down at ten, and it's a quarter past eleven, and i know everything by heart. now, then, you listen."

"go on, then," cried the other.

"not likely. i've done. come on and let's do something. the rain's all gone off and it's lovely out."

"there, i knew you didn't," cried the other. "you can't have learned it all. and look here, if you do that again i shall certainly report it to uncle."

"very well, report away, sneaky. now then, will you come? we'll get old poltree's boat and make hezz come and row."

the student reseated himself, frowning, and bent over his book again.

"look here," cried his cousin, "i'll give you one more chance. will you come?"

no answer.

"one more chance. will you come?"

"will you leave off interrupting me?" cried the other furiously.

"certainly, sir. very sorry, sir. hope you will enjoy yourself, sir. poor old alf! he'll want specs soon."

then pretending great alarm, the speaker darted out into the hall, and thrust his head through a door on the right, which he half opened, and stood looking in at a slightly grey-haired lady who was bending over her work.

"going out, mother," he said.

the lady looked up and smiled pleasantly.

"don't be late for dinner, my dear. two o'clock punctually, mind."

"oh, i shall be back," said the boy, laughing.

"and don't do anything risky by the cliff."

"oh no, i'll mind."

the boy closed the door and crossed the hall, just as a shadow darkened the porch, and a tall, bluff-looking man entered.

"hullo, you, sir!" he cried; "how is it you are not at your studies?—going out?"

"yes, father; down to the shore a bit. done lessons."

"why don't you take your cousin with you?"

"won't come, father. i did try."

it was only about half a mile to the cliff, where a few fishermen's cottages stood on shelves of the mighty granite walls which looked as if they had been built up of blocks by the old cornish ogres, weeded out by the celebrated jack the giant-killer; and here lance made his way to where in front of one long whitewashed granite cot, perched a hundred feet above the shore, there was a long protecting rail formed of old spars planted close to the edge of the cliff, just where a tiny river discharged itself into the sea. this opened sufficiently to form a little harbour for half-a-dozen fishing luggers, the rocks running out sufficiently to act as a breakwater and keep off the huge billows which at times came rolling in from the south-west, so that on one side of the cliffs lay piled up a slope of wave-washed and rounded boulders, many as big as great cheshire cheeses, while on the other, where the luggers lay, there were pebbles and sand.

upon this rail four men were leaning with folded arms, apparently doing nothing but stare out at the bright, clear sea; but every eye was keenly on the look-out for one of those dark-cloud, shadow-like appearances on the surface which to them meant money and provisions.

but there was no sign of fish breaking the surface of the water, and as lance approached he had a good view of four immense pairs of very thick flannel trousers, whose bottoms were tucked into as many huge boots, which, instead of being drawn well up their owners' thighs, hung in folds about their ankles, and glittered in the sunshine, where they were well specked with bright fish scales.

higher up lance looked upon four pairs of very short braces, hitched over big bone buttons, and holding the aforesaid trousers close up under their wearers' armpits. the rest of the costume consisted of caps, home-made, and of fur formerly worn by unfortunate seals which had come too near a boat instead of seeking safety in one of the wave-washed caves round the point.

"hi! old poltree!" shouted lance, as he drew near, "where's hezz?"

the broadest man present raised his head a little, screwed it round, and unfolding his arms, set one at liberty to give three thrusts downward of a hand which was of the same colour as all that could be seen of a very hairy face—mahogany.

"thankye," shouted lance, turning off to the left, and the big man folded his arms again and looked seaward, the others not having stirred.

lance's turn to the left led him to a steep descent all zigzag—a way to the shore that a stranger would have attacked like a bear and gone down backwards; but lance was no stranger, and the precipitous nature of the way did not deter him, for he descended in a series of jumps from stone to stone, till he finished with a drop of about ten or a dozen feet into a bed of sand lying at the mouth of a wave-scooped hollow, from which came strange moans and squeaks, the latter painfully shrill, the former deepening at times into a roar.

the said stranger would have imagined that a person had fallen from the cliff and was lying somewhere below, badly broken and wanting help; but there was nothing the matter. it was only hezz, or more commonly "hezzerer," in three syllables, and he had been busy at work putting a patch on the bottom of a clumsy upturned boat which, as he put it, "lived in the cave," and he was now daubing his new patch with hot tar from a little three-legged iron kettle held in his left hand.

but this does not account for the groans and squeaks.

these were produced from the youth's throat. in fact, hezz was singing over his work, though it did not sound very musical at the time, for something was broken; but it was only hezz's voice, and it was only the previous night that old poltree, his father, had said to billy poltree, another of the big fisherman's offspring, "yo' never know wheer to have him now, my son: one minute he's hoarse as squire's devon bull, and next he's letting go like the pig at feeding time."

at the sound of the dull thuds made by lance's feet in the sand, hezz poltree whisked himself round and held his tar-kettle and brush out like a pair of balances to make him turn, and showed a good-looking young mahogany face—that is to say, it was paler than his father's, and not so ruddy and polished.

"hullo, master—lance," he said, widening his mouth and showing his white teeth, joining in the laughter as the visitor threw himself down on the sand and roared.

"whisked himself round and held his tar-kettle and brush out like a pair of balances."

"i can't help it, master—lance."

"try again," cried the new-comer, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"i do try," growled the boy, beginning once more in a deep bass, and then ending in a treble squeak. "there's somethin' got loose in my voice. 'tarn't my fault. s'pose it's a sort o' cold."

"never mind, gruff un. but i didn't know the boat was being mended. i wanted to go out fishing, and the pitch isn't dry."

"that don't matter," growled hezz, setting down his kettle and brush, and catching up a couple of handfuls of dry sand, which he dashed over the shiny tar. "come on."

lance came on in the way of helping to turn the clumsy boat over on its keel; then it was spun round so as to present its bows to the sea; a block was placed underneath, another a little way off, and the two boys skilfully ran it down the steep sandy slope till it was half afloat, when they left it while they went back to the natural boat-house for the oars, hitcher, and tackle.

"got any bait?" said lance.

"heaps," came in a growl. then in a squeak—"thought you'd come down, so i got some wums—lugs and rags, and there's four broken pilchards in the maund, and a couple o' dozen sand-eels in the coorge out yonder by the buoy."

"are there any bass off the point?"

"few. billy saw some playing there 'smorning, but p'raps they won't take."

"never mind; let's try," said lance eagerly. "look sharp; i must be back in time for dinner."

"lots o' time," growled hezz, as he loaded himself up with the big basket, into which he had tumbled the coarse brown lines and receptacles of bait, including a scaly piece of board with four damaged pilchards laid upon it and a sharp knife stuck in the middle. "you carry the oars and boat-hook," came in a squeak.

they hurried down to the boat, and were brought back to the knowledge that four pairs of eyes were watching them from a hundred feet overhead, by old poltree roaring out as if addressing some one a mile at sea—

"you stopped that gashly leak proper, my son?"

"iss, father," cried hezz, in a shrill squeak, as he dumped down his load.

lance thrust in the oars and hitcher and sprang in, after giving the boat a thrust; and as a little wave came in and floated her, hezz ran her out a bit farther and sprang in too, thrust an oar over the stern, and sculled the craft out, fish-tail fashion, to where a black keg did duty for a buoy. here he kept the boat's head while lance leaned over the side to unhitch a piece of line and draw a spindle-shaped wicker basket along the side to the stern, where he made it fast to a ring bolt, the movement sending a score or so of eely-looking silvery fish gliding over one another and flashing by the thin osiers of which the basket was formed.

then each seized an oar and pulled right away to get round the rocky buttress which was continued outward in a few detached rocks, that stood up boldly, to grow smaller farther out, and farther, till only showing as submerged reefs over which the sea just creamed and foamed.

it was out here that the tide ran swiftly, a favourite spot for the bass to play, and as they approached the familiar spot lance handed his oar to his sturdy companion, while he took one of the lines, laid the hook and lead ready, and then drew the coorge in, opened a wicker trap-door in the top, inserted his hand, closed the lid again, and with deft fingers hooked the silvery writhing fish, popped it overboard, and let the line run out with the tide, while hezz kept the boat carefully, as nearly as he could, in one place.

"there they are, master lance," he cried. "be on the look-out; they'll take that bait pretty sharp perhaps."

the lad was quite right, for hardly five minutes had elapsed before there was a snatch at the line, and something was hooked.

"got him!" cried lance, whose face was glowing with excitement. "oh, why didn't alfy come? i say, hezz, he's a whopper. he does pull. shall i let him run?"

"gahn! no. haul him in fast as you can, 'fore he gets off."

the tackle was coarse and strong, and there was no scientific playing attempted. it was plain, straightforward pully-hauly work, and in a very short time the transparent water astern seemed to be cut into flashing streaks by something silvery which was drawn in hand over hand, till, just as lance was leaning over to get his fingers close to the end of the snood where the hook was tied, the water was splashed up into his face, and he sat up with a cry of disappointment, seeing only a streak of silver flashing in the sunshine, for the fish had gone.

"never mind: bait again," squeaked hezz.

"bait again," cried lance, imitating him. "what! with that hook? look at it. nearly straightened out. i wish you wouldn't have such nasty soft-roed things. why, that was a fifteen pounder."

"take another hook, master lance. look sharp; look at 'em playing."

lance put on a fresh hook, baited again, and sent the sand-eel gliding off along the rushing tide, which played among the rocks like a mill-stream, and waited excitedly for another snatch, but waited in vain.

"don't pull," he said at last; "let the boat run out a bit."

hezz obeyed, cleverly managing so that the boat glided slowly after the bait in the direction of the broken water where the shoal of bass could be seen feeding; but they got no nearer, for so sure as the boat went farther from land, so did the fish, and in spite of fresh and tempting baits being tried there was no seizure made.

"that there one as got away has told all the others to look out," said hezz, with a chuckle. "you won't get another bite."

"stuff and nonsense! just as if fish could talk! let's go out farther."

the boat glided on, with the current growing less swift, and at last lance drew in his line, sat down, and between them they rowed slowly in against the sharp current.

"it's no good now," said hezz. "let's go along yonder by the mouth of the caves, and try for a pollack among the rocks. if we don't get one we may ketch a rock-fish or two."

"or a conger in one of the deep holes."

"nay, you won't ketch none o' them till it's getting dark."

"dark enough in the holes," said lance.

"very well; you try."

so the boat was rowed out of the sharp current, and then away towards the west under the cliffs, and about a hundred yards from the shore, where the tide ran slowly. here lance gave up his oar and began to fish again, trying first one and then another kind of bait, but with no greater result than catching a grey gurnard—"tub" hezz called it—and soon after a couple of gaily-coloured wrasse, not worth having.

"oh, this is miserable work!" cried the boy, drawing in his line and covering a large hook with half a pilchard. "pull a little farther along, and i'll throw out in that dark quiet part. there'll be a conger there, i know."

hezz uttered a croak, and his eyes said plainly, "no conger there"; but he rowed to the spot, which was where a rock rose up out of the water like a little island, on which a dusky cormorant which had been fishing sat drying its wet wings, paying no heed to the approaching boat till it was some twenty yards away, when the bird took flight and went off close to the surface.

"now put her just in yonder," said lance, "and be as gentle as you can, so as to keep her there without splashing."

hezz obeyed cleverly enough; and his companion, after seeing that the line lay in rings free from obstruction, sent the heavy sinker and bait right away to where the water looked blackest, making hezz chuckle loudly.

"rev'nue cutter," said hezz shortly.

"what are you laughing at?"

"you: telling me to be so quiet, and sending the lead in with a splash like that."

"don't matter; it's only at the top. the fish deep down won't notice it. look! it is deep too," for the line went on running out as the lead descended, and lance seated himself to wait, with a self-satisfied look upon his countenance.

"i like fishing in the still water," he said. "you see if i don't soon get hold of something big."

"p'raps," said hezz; "but i never caught anything here."

"ah, you don't know everything. i say, what's that vessel out yonder?"

"chasse-marée," said hezz, shading his eyes to look at the long three-masted lugger with a display of interest.

"no, no; the one with all the white sails set."

"rev'nue cutter," said hezz shortly; and proof of his words was given the next minute, for there was a white puff of smoke seen to dart out from her bows, and a dull thud echoed from the cliff.

"why, she's after that long lugger. she's a smuggler," cried lance excitedly. "is there going to be a fight?"

"na-a-a-a-y!" growled hezz. "she's only fishing."

"how do you know? she's a smuggler, and there'll be a fight. let's row out and see."

but in obedience to the summons the long low vessel glided slowly round till her brown sails began to shiver and flap, and as the boys watched they saw the cutter run pretty close up, and a small boat was lowered and rowed across.

"they're french, and cowards," cried lance, who was deeply interested. "they've surrendered without striking a blow."

"arn't got nothing to strike blows with," croaked hezz sulkily. "didn't i tell you she was a fishing-boat?"

"oh, yes; but i know what fishing-boats catch sometimes, master hezz," said lance, laughing, his companion looking at him curiously the while—"brandy snappers, 'bacco biters, and lace-fins, hezz. but they're french cowards, or they'd have made a run of it. i say, they'll make her a prize, and take her into port. where will they take her—plymouth or falmouth?"

"nowheres. they'll let her go."

the lads sat watching till all at once in the distance they saw the little boat row back, and the sails of the chasse-marée began to fill.

"who's right now?" said hezz, laughing.

"i am. they've put a prize crew on board."

"what! out of that little boat?" squeaked hezz. "that they haven't. there was five in her when she put put off, and there's five in her now."

"you can't see at this distance."

"can't i? that i can, quite plain."

"that's upset all my fishing," said lance, "and it's getting on for dinner-time. oh, what bad luck i do have!"

"you ketch lots sometimes, and you did nearly get a fine bass to-day. that was a good twelve-pounder."

"twelve? fifteen," said lance, preparing to haul in his line.

"p'raps," said hezz. "going to try any more?"

"no; i mustn't be late for——oh, look here! i've got one on."

for the line was tight, and as lance began to haul, it was against a heavy persistent drag.

"lead caught in the rocks," croaked hezz contemptuously.

"oh, is it! look here! it's coming up."

"weed, then," squeaked hezz.

"'tisn't," cried lance; "i know by the heavy, steady pull. it's a big conger."

"no congers there."

"how do you know?"

"and if there were they wouldn't bite at this time of day."

"you mind your own business," cried lance excitedly. "it's a thumping big one, and he isn't awake yet to his being hooked. he's coming, and he'll begin to make a rush directly to get in his hole. you begin rowing, and get him right out away from the rocks."

hezz did as he was told, but only made two or three strokes and then stopped, for his companion had to give line.

"slower," said lance, panting, as he held on again. "wait till he makes a rush. i say, did you bring the big gaff hook?"

"no; but that line'll hold any conger you can catch, and i've got the little chopper in the locker when he comes on board. but that isn't a conger."

"'tis, i tell you. i can feel him trying to get back.—what is it, then?"

"weed," croaked hezz in his deep bass.

"you're a weed! it's a big conger, and he has got his tail round a rock or in a hole."

"let him go, then."

"what? why he'd shuffle back into his hole, and i should lose him. wait till he gets a bit tired and gives way a bit."

"let go, and if it's a conger he'll slack the line and come swimming up to see what's the matter. but you've only hooked a weed."

"ha! ha!" laughed lance. "you're a clever one, hezz. look, he's coming up quite steady;" and the boy drew in a couple of yards of line.

"it arn't a conger, or he'd begin to cut about now and shake his head to get riddy of the hook."

"then it's some other big fish. think it's a shark."

"no. what would a shark be doing there?"

"i dunno; but he's coming up. i say, put down the oars."

hezz nodded, laid in his oars, and stood close behind his companion, gradually growing as excited for a minute or so, and then grinning.

"it arn't no fish," he said.

"it is, i tell you," cried lance, as he kept up a steady haul, the boat having yielded till it was exactly over the line.

"i never see a fish take it so quiet as that," continued hezz.

"it's only till he sees us, and then he'll make a desperate rush to get away."

"i'll be ready for him," said hezz, laughing softly, as he gently rested the handle of the boat-hook on the side, thrusting it out towards the tightened line, which still came slowly in, though the strain threatened to make it part. "hope it will be good to eat, master lance."

"i know what it is," cried the boy, in a low hoarse voice. "it's one of those great cuttles, the same as were washed on shore after last year's storm. it will come up all of a lump, with its feelers and suckers twisted round the line."

a sudden change came over hezz. instead of grinning, his face turned preternaturally solemn, and taking his right hand from the boat-hook he thrust it into his pocket, drew out a big jack-knife, to open it by seizing the blade in his teeth.

"that's right," whispered lance, husky now with the excitement; "but don't use the knife if you can get a good hold with the hook. look, look, here it comes! oh, it is a monster!"

"a vigorous cut divided the fishing-line."

the boy had been steadily hauling till he had brought his capture nearly to the surface, and he now caught sight of what seemed to be its curved and rounded body.

"now, hezz—quick! down with the hook. get a good hold at once. snatch, lad, snatch!"

but at the crucial moment, when the dark back of the monster slowly rolled up to the surface, hezz dropped the boat-hook, leaned over the side, hindering his companion's view, and plunged his knife-armed hand down under water.

the next moment there was a slight jar which ran from lance's fingers right up his arms, the tension ceased, and a yard or two of the stout fishing-line flew up in the holder's face.

for, as if to save his companion from some danger, hezz had reached down as low as he could, and with a vigorous cut divided the fishing-line, so that the dark round body sank down again like a shadow, leaving the two lads gazing fiercely at each other.

"oh, i say!" cried lance. "only to think of that! why, hezz, it's——"

"never you mind what it is," said the boy roughly.

"and you knew it was, then?"

"swears i didn't," said the boy fiercely. "think i should have let you fish there if i had knowed?"

"why, there must have been a whole string of 'em tied together on a line and sunk there."

"you don't know nothing of the sort," growled hezz. "you didn't see."

"i saw one; and another coming like a shadow."

"no, you didn't."

"yes, i did—brandy kegs—smuggled. here, i'll hail the cutter."

"no, you don't," said hezz fiercely; and as he stood with the knife in his hand he looked threatening. "they couldn't hear you if you did."

"then i'll make signals."

"no, you won't. i shan't let you, and you wouldn't be such a sneak, master lance."

"it isn't the act of a sneak."

"yes, it is. your cousin would, but you wouldn't get poor men into trouble."

that hit hard, and lance hesitated.

"why, it must be your father's and your brother's doing. and just under our noses too! oh, what a disgraceful shame! there, hezz, i've done with you."

"i didn't know about it, master lance."

"you must have known."

"wish i may die if i did. there!"

"take the oars, hezz," said lance coldly.

"but, master lance——?"

"take the oars," said lance sternly. "i want to go home."

"to tell squire penwith what you've seen? o master lance! you don't know what you're going to do."

"no," said lance sternly, as the lad took the oars and began to row back, "i don't."

"you make me feel as if i'd sooner kill you than you should do this. it means having my poor father took up and sent out of the country, and p'raps he didn't know the kegs was hid like that."

"go on rowing, i tell you," cried lance sharply, "make haste. pull! do you hear? pull!"

hezz uttered a low sound something like a gulp, and dragged away at the oars with all his might till he ran the boat on to the sands, where lance was perfectly aware, though he would not look up, that the four big fishermen were still leaning over the rail and looking out to sea, and he expected to hear a cheery question as to sport as he hurried up over the sands and began to climb the zigzag.

but no hail came, for the men's eyes were bent upon the revenue cutter, a mile away, watching every movement of that and the chasse-marée.

at least so thought lance penwith as he hurried home, pondering upon his cousin's words, and asking himself whether he was not doing wrong by associating with these fisher-folk on the cliff.

"i must tell father," he said to himself. "i ought to tell him," he said; and then he began thinking of what it meant, the severe punishment of pretty well every man in the cluster of cottages, some being sent to prison, the younger men to serve in king george's men-of-war; and ever since he could remember, they had all been to him the kindest friends.