Chapter 7. I Startle My Father

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_ CHAPTER SEVEN. I STARTLE MY FATHER

My father was first up next morning, and had been out for an hour before I went down the garden to join him, and found him walking the quarter-deck.

You must not think by these words that he was on board a ship. Nothing of the kind. He called by that name a flat place at the bottom of the garden just at the edge of the cliff, where there was a low stone wall built to keep anyone from falling over a couple of hundred feet perpendicular to the rocks and beach below.

This was my father's favourite place, where he used to spend hours with his spy-glass, and along the edge of the wall, all carefully mounted, were six small brass cannon, which came out of a sloop that was wrecked below in the bay, and which my father bought for the price of old metal when the ship was broken up and sold.

I used to think sometimes that he ought to have called the place the battery, but he settled on the quarter-deck, and the quarter-deck it remained.

Always once a year on his birthday he would load and fire all the cannons, and it was quite a sight; for he used to call himself the crew and load them and prime them, and then send me in for the poker, which had all the time been getting red-hot in the kitchen.

Then he used to take the poker from me, and I used to stop my ears. But as soon as I stopped my ears, he used to frown and say, "Take out the tompions, you young swab!"

So I used to take out the tompions--I mean my fingers--and screw up my face and look on while with quite a grand air my father, who was a fine handsome man, with a fresh colour and curly grey hair, used to stand up very erect, give the poker a flourish through the air, and bring the end down upon a touch-hole.

Then _bang_! There would be a tremendous roar, and the rocks would echo as the white smoke floated upwards.

A quarter of a minute more and _bang_ would go another gun, and so on for the whole six, every one of them kicking hard and leaping back some distance on to the shingle.

When all were fired, my father used to push them on their little carriages all back into their places; then he used to "bend," as he called it, the white ensign on to the halyards, and run it up to the head of a rigged mast which stood at the corner, and close to the edge of the cliff, and after this shake hands with himself, left hand with right, and wish himself many happy returns of the day.

It was not his birthday that one on which I ran down the garden to join him; but there he was by his guns, busy with his spy-glass sweeping, as he called it, the Bristol Channel and talking to himself about the different craft.

"Hallo, Sep, my boy!" he said; "here's a morning for a holiday landsman--or boy. Well, I didn't see much of you yesterday."

"No, father," I said; "I was out all day with Doctor Chowne's boy and young Uggleston."

"Rather a queer companion for you, my boy, eh? Uggleston is a sad smuggler, they say; but let's see, his boy goes to your school?"

"Yes, father, and he's such a good fellow. We went to his house down in the Gap, and had dinner, and Mr Uggleston was very civil to me, all but--"

"Well, speak out, Sep. All but what?"

"He spoke once, father, as if he did not like your having bought the Gap."

"Hah! Very likely; but then you see, Sep, I did not consider myself bound to ask everybody's permission when I was at the sale, much more Mr Jonas Uggleston's, so there's an end of that."

"He seemed to think he would have to turn out and go, father," I said, looking at him rather wistfully, for it appeared to me as if it would be a great pity if old Uggleston and Bigley did have to turn out, because we were such friends.

"If Mr Jonas Uggleston will behave, himself like a Christian, and pay his rent," said my father, "he'll go on just the same as he did under old Squire Allworth, so he has nothing to complain about whatever."

"May I go and tell him that, father!" I said eagerly.

"No: certainly not."

"I mean after breakfast, father."

"So do I, my boy," he replied. "Don't you meddle with such matters as that. So you had a good look round the place, eh?"

"Yes, father."

"See many rabbits?"

"Yes, father, plenty."

"That's right. I want to keep that place for a bit of shooting, and I'm thinking of buying a bigger boat, Sep, and I shall keep her there."

"Oh!" I cried, "a bigger sailing boat?"

"Yes, a much bigger one, my boy--big enough to take quite a cruise. You must make haste and get finished at school, my lad, and then I can take you afloat, and make a sailor of you, the same as your grandfather and great-grandfather used to be."

"Yes, I should like to be a sailor, father," I said.

"Ah, well, we shall see," he replied; "but that is not the business to see to now. The first thing is to take in rations, so come along and have breakfast."

I was quite willing, and in a few minutes we were seated in the snug cottage parlour with the window open, and the scent of the roses brought in by the breeze off the sea.

"Why, Sep," said my father, after I had been disposing of bacon and eggs and milk for some time, "how quiet you are! Isn't the breakfast so good as you get at school?"

"Heaps better, father;" for schools were very different places in those days to what they are now.

"Then what makes you so quiet?"

"I was thinking how nice it would be if it was always holidays."

"With the sun shining warmly like it is now, and the sky blue, and the sea quite calm, eh?"

"Yes, father."

"You young goose--I mean gander," he said laughing. "Pleasure that has not been earned by hard work of some kind is poor tasteless stuff, of which everybody would soon tire; and as to its being always hot and sunshiny, why, my dear boy, I've been out in the tropics when the sky has been for weeks without a cloud, the seams oozing pitch, and the rails and bolts and bell all so hot you could not touch them, and we would have given anything for a thick mist or a heavy rain, or a good puff of cool wind. No, no, my dear boy, England and its climate are best as they are. In all my travels I never found a better or more healthy place; and as to the holidays--bah! Life was not made for play. Kittens are the most playful things I know, but they soon give it up, and take to work."

"Yes, father," I said with a sigh, "but school exercises are so hard."

"The better lad you when you've mastered them. It's hard work to learn to be a sailor, but the more credit to the young man who masters navigation, and gets to know how to thoroughly handle a ship; better still how to manage his men, for a crew is a very mixed-up set of fellows, Sep."

"Yes, father, I suppose so. But I am trying very hard at school."

"I know you are, Sep. Have another egg--and that bit of brown. You've got room, I know. Make muscle."

He helped me to what I was by no means unwilling to take, and then continued:

"Of course you are trying hard, and I know it. Otherwise I shouldn't have been so glad to see you home for the holidays you've earned, and be ready to say to you, 'Never mind about holiday lessons, I don't approve of them, my lad; put them aside and I'll make excuses for you to the doctor. Work as hard as you can when you are at school, and now you are at home, play as hard as you can.' We must have a bit of fishing. I've got some new lines, and a trammel net to set, and we'll do a good deal of boating. You sha'n't stand still for want of something to do. What's that?"

"Only a stone, father," I replied, for in pulling out my handkerchief, the piece that I had put in my pocket on the previous day flew out, and fell with a crash in the fireplace.

"What do you want with stones in your pocket?" he said rather crossly, as he rose and picked up the piece to throw it out of the window; but, as soon as he had it in his hand, its appearance took his attention. He turned it over, weighed it in his hand, and then held it more to the light.

I went on eating my breakfast and watching him closely, for I did not want to lose that piece of stone, and I was afraid that he would ask me more questions about it, sooner than bear which I was ready to see him throw the piece of rock out of the window, when, if he threw it far enough, the chances were that it would go over the cliff and fall upon the beach.

Just as I feared, the questions came as he put on his glasses and examined the fragment more closely.

"Where did you get this, Sep?" he said--"on the beach?"

"No, father, up on this side of the Gap."

"Whereabouts?"

"About three hundred yards from Uggleston's cottage, and half-way up the slope, where the rocks stand up so big on the top."

"Hah! Yes, I know the place. It was lying on the slope, I suppose?"

"Well, ye-es, father."

"Humph, strange!" he muttered. "There can't be any metals there. Somebody must have dropped it."

I hesitated. I wanted to speak out, but I was afraid, for I did not know what he would say if he heard that we had blown up one of the rocks with gunpowder, and sent all those stones hurtling down the side of the cliff.

"Yes," continued my father, "somebody must have dropped it. A good specimen--a very good specimen indeed."

Just then he raised his eyes, and caught me gazing at him wistfully.

"Hallo!" he said, "what does that mean? Why are you looking so serious and strange?"

"Was I, father?"

"Yes, sir: of course you were. No nonsense. Speak out like a man, and a gentleman. Not quite the same thing, Sep, for a gentleman is not always a thorough man; but a thorough man is always a gentleman. Now, what is it?"

I did not answer.

"Come, Sep," he said sharply, "you're getting a great fellow now, and I want you, the bigger you grow, the more frank and open. I don't want you to grow into one of those men who look upon their father as someone to be cheated and blinded in every way, instead of as their truest and firmest friend and adviser. Now, sir, you have something on your mind."

"Yes, father," I said slowly.

"Hah! I thought as much. In mischief yesterday?"

"I'm afraid so, father."

"Well, out with it. You know my old saying, 'The truth can be blamed, but can never be shamed.'"

"Yes, father."

"Well, I'm sure my boy could not bear to be shamed."

"Oh, no, father."

"Of course not," he said quietly. "And I'm sure you've got manly feeling enough not to be afraid of being blamed; so out with it, sir, and take your punishment, whatever it is, as the son of a sailor should."

"Yes, father," I exclaimed with a sort of gasp, and then I told him what we had done with the powder.

"Humph! Nice fellows!" he exclaimed as I ended. "Why, you might have blown each other to pieces. Powder wants using only by an experienced man, and young Chowne, who seems to have played first fiddle, seems to know more about his father's powders than that out of a keg. Humph! So you blew down one of the lumps of stone?"

"Yes, father."

"Well, why didn't you say so at once?" he continued tartly, "and not shuffle and shirk. It was a foolish, monkeyish trick, but I suppose no great harm's done. What did you do it for?"

"To see the stones rush down, sir," I said.

"Humph! Well, don't do so any more."

"I will not, father," I said hastily.

"That's well. Now we will not say any more about it. Many stones come down?"

"Yes, father, they swept a bare place down the side of the cliff right to the old rock."

"Here, Sep," said my father excitedly, holding out the lump of mineral, "did you pick this up before or after?"

"After, father; where the rock was swept bare."

My father looked at me quite excitedly.

"Done breakfast?" he said sharply.

"Yes, father."

"Put on your hat and come with me to the Gap. Stop a moment. Did your school-fellows notice that piece of rock--did you show it to them?"

"No, father. I was alone when I found it."

"So much the better. Then, look here, Sep; don't say anything to them about it, nor about what you see to-day."

"No, father; but--"

"Don't ask any questions, boy. I am not sure but you may have made a very important discovery in the Gap. I had no idea of there being any metals there."

"And are there, father?"

"We are going to see, my boy. So now, keep your counsel. Put on your cap and we will walk over to the Gap at once, when you can show me the exact spot where you found this piece."

I grew as excited as my father seemed to be, but with this difference, namely, that as I grew warmer he grew more cool and business-like.

After I had given him some better idea of the place where the specimen had been found, he decided that we would not go round by the cliff path, and past Jonas Uggleston's cottage, but take a short cut over the high moorland ground at the back of the bay, and so on to the Gap, where we could descend just where we lads had blown down the rock.

It was not a long walk that way, though a hilly one, and before half an hour had passed we were close to the edge of the ravine, and directly after on the spot from whence the stone had been dislodged.

Here for the first time I noticed the handle of a hammer in my father's pocket as he stooped down and examined the place where the rock lay, and then shook his head. "No, not here," he said. "Go on first." I led the way and he followed, noting where the rock had bounded off, and then descending to where it had charged the other pieces and rushed on down, baring a portion of the side of the ravine, as I have said, to the very rock.

"Hah!" ejaculated my father suddenly, as he seemed to pounce upon a fragment of stone something like the first I held. "Here's another, and another, and another," I said. "Yes, plenty," he replied rather hoarsely, as he picked up a couple more pieces. "Place them in your pocket, boy."

As he spoke he looked about him up and down, and ended by uttering another sharp exclamation, for in one place there was a rugged patch of rock just like the fragments we held, and seeming as if the cliff-side there was one solid mass.

"Look here, Sep," he said quietly; "be smart, and gather up all the rough pieces of common grey slate you can find and throw them about here I'll help."

I set to work and he aided me vigorously, with the result that in a short time we had hidden the bright metallic-looking patch, and then he laid his hand upon my arm.

"That will do," he said. "Now, keep a silent tongue in your head. I'll talk more to you afterwards. Let's go home now. Stop," he cried, starting; "don't seem to look, but turn your head slightly towards the sea. Your eyes are better than mine. Who's that standing on the piece of rock over yonder. Can you see?"

"No, father, not yet."

"Look more to the north, boy. Just over the big rock that stands out of the cliff-side. There's a man watching us."

"Yes, I see, father," I cried.

"Who is it?" he whispered, as he led the way along by the steep slope so that we might descend and go up the Gap by the stream side and reach the shore.

"Yes, I know, I'm sure now," I cried. "It's old Jonas Uggleston."

"Humph! Of all men in the world," said my father. "Well, the place is my own now, and no one has a right to interfere."

He walked on silently for a few minutes, and then said softly: "I would rather no one had known yet." Then aloud to me: "Come, Sep, let's get home and see what these rocks are made of. I'm beginning to think that you have made a great find." _

Read next: Chapter 8. The Doctor And I Build A Furnace

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