"Oysters!" exclaimed the captain; "there'll be no time for eating oysters now, and no money to pay for them neither. Come along with me, some of you shore crabs. I promise you better sport than sneaking about the creeks. We'll have at Johnny Crapaud with gun and cutlass."
Then he entered his cottage, which was near the shore, to say farewell to his wife.
"If there's mischief to be done, that chap will do it," was the general observation, when his back was turned.
Attention was all at once distracted by a young woman in a tall taxcart who was endeavouring to urge her horse along the road, but the animal, conscious of having an inexperienced hand on the rein, backed, and jibbed, and played a number of tricks, to her great dismay.
"Oh, do please some of you men lead him along. I dare say he will go if his head be turned east, but he is frightened by seeing so many of you."
"Where are you going, Phœbe?" asked old Morrell.
"I'm only going to Waldegraves," she answered. 'Oh, bother the creature! there he goes again!" as the horse danced impatiently, and swung round.
"De Witt!" she cried in an imploring tone, "do hold his head. It is a shame of you men not to help a poor girl."
George at once went to the rescue.
"Lead him on, De Witt, please, till we are away from the beach."
The young man good-naturedly held the bit, and the horse obeyed without attempting resistance.
"There's a donkey on the lawn by Elm Tree Cottage," said the girl; "she brays whenever a horse passes, and I'm mortal afeared lest she scare this beast, and he runs away with me. If he do so, I can't hold him in, my wrists are so weak."
"Why, Phœbe," said De Witt, "what are you driving for? Waldegraves is not more than a mile and a half off, and you might have walked the distance well enough."
"I've sprained my ankle, and I can't walk. I must go to Waldegraves, I have a message there to my aunt, so Isaac Mead lent me the horse."
"If you can't drive, you may do worse than sprain your ankle, you may break your neck."
