"You and I are about the same size, aren't we?" said Bob.
"There isn't much to figure on between us, I think," replied Scottie.
"Lower your flag, then, or I'll shake you out of your skin."
"Scotland never lowered flag to a foreigner yet. Why don't you raise
your standard? Why, because you haven't got one to raise. Ha, ha! what
a fright you are! I only wonder your master lets you go about like
that."
"Yah--ah--r-r--r-r--r-r!"
"Waugh--r-r--r-r--r-r--r!"
And there _was_ war next second.
Tandy rushed to the scene of action.
"I'm very sorry, sir," he said. "Which dog, do you think, began the
fight?"
"I think they both began it," said the newcomer, laughing.
Scotland and England were having a terrible tulzie, as Scotland and
England have often had in days long, long gone by.
They were rolling over each other, sometimes Bob above, sometimes Bob
below, and the yellow sands were soon stained with blood.
Little Nelda was in tears, and the Admiral scray-scraying and dancing
with joy.
"I think," said the stranger, "they've both had enough of it, and my
proposal is this--I'll pull my dog off by the tail, and you do the same
by yours."
"I'd gladly do so," said Tandy, laughing, "but, my dear sir, the fact is
that my dog is like Tam o' Shanter's mare after she escaped from the
witches--
"`The ne'er a tail has he to shake.'"
Dogs are just like men, however, and these two, seemingly satisfied that
neither could kill the other, soon made it up, and presently they went
galloping off together to the sea to wash the sand out of their shaggy
jackets.
Down sat the stranger between Ransey and his father. He rolled up his
paper and lit his pipe, and soon the two were engaged in a very animated
conversation.
Sailors all three. No wonder that the acquaintance thus brought about
by their honest dogs ripened into friendship in a few days.
Captain Halcott--for so this new friend was named--had, some months
before this, reached England after a very long and strangely adventurous
cruise.
"Are you like me, I wonder?" he said to Tandy, as they sat smoking the
calumet of peace together on a breezy cliff-top, while Ransey and his
sister were fishing for curios in the pools of water left among the
rocks by the receding tide. "Are you like me, I wonder? for I am no
sooner safely arrived in Merrie England than I begin once more to long
for life on the heaving billows."
"You're a free man, Captain Halcott; I've got a little family; and
you're a somewhat younger man, as well."
"Yes, yes; granted. But, before going further, tell me what is your
Christian name?"
"Dick."
"Well, and mine's Charlie. We're both seafarers; don't let us `Mr'
each other, or `captain' each other either. You're Tandy or you're
Dick, I'm Halcott or I'm Charlie, just as, for the time being, the
humour may suit us. Is that right?"
"That's right--ship-shape and seaman-fashion." Two brown fists met and
were shaken--no mincing landlubber's shake, but a firm and hearty grip
and wholesome pressure; a grip that seemed to speak and to say,--"Thine,
lad, thine! Thine in peace or war; in calm or tempest, thine!"
How is it that sailors so often resemble one another? I cannot answer
the question. But it is none the less true.
Tandy and Halcott appeared to have been cast in the same mould; the same
open, bronzed, and weather-beaten faces, the same eyes--eyes that could
twinkle with merriment one moment and be filled with pity the next.
Even Captain Weathereye himself, although older than either, and
somewhat lighter in complexion, might easily have passed as brother to
both.
"Well," said Halcott, "I daresay you have a story to tell."
"I've had strange experiences in life, and some were sad enough. For
the sake of that dear boy and girl, I thank God I am no longer in the
grip of poverty; but, my friend, I've seen worse days."
"Tell us, Tandy."
Tandy told him, sitting there, all the reader already knows and much
more, receiving silent but heartfelt sympathy.
"So you've sold the _Merry Maiden_!"
"Yes; although some of the happiest years of my life were spent on board
of her, and in the little cottage. Heigho! I wish I could bring back
the past; but if I live to be able to afford it, I shall build a house
where the old cot stands, and will just end my days there, you know.
And now for your story."
"Oh, that is a strange and a sad one; but as your friend is coming down
to-morrow, I propose postponing it. This Captain Weathereye must, from
all you say, be a real jolly fellow."
This was agreed to; and next morning Tandy met bluff old Weathereye at
the little railway station.
"I'll stay a week, Tandy, a whole week. Yes, my hearty, I'll gladly
make your house my home, and shall rejoice to see your friend, and hear
the yarn he has got to spin."
Book 2--CHAPTER THREE.