“You might take us once.” “You never asked us.” Tall Val and little Charlie had come along the bank unnoticed while they were so busy. “I wish you would go away,” said Mark, beginning to push the Pinta afloat. The ballast and cargo made her drag on the sand. “Bevis,” said Val, “let us have one sail.” “All the times you’ve been sailing,” said Charlie, “and all by yourselves, and never asked anybody.” “And after we banged you in the battle,” said Val. “If you did beat us, we hit you as hard as we could.” “It was a capital battle,” said Bevis hesitatingly. He had the halyard in his hand, and paused with the mainsail half hoisted. “Whopping and snopping,” said Charlie. “Charging and whooping and holloaing,” said Val. “Rare,” said Bevis. “Yes; you fought very well.” “But you never asked us to have a sail.” “Not once--you didn’t.” “Well, it’s not your ship. It’s our ship,” said Mark, giving another push, till the Pinta was nearly afloat. “Stop,” cried Charlie, running down to the water’s edge. “Bevis, do take us--” “It’s very selfish of you,” said Val, following. “So it is,” said Bevis. “I say, Mark--” “Pooh!” said Mark, and with a violent shove he launched the boat, and leaped on board. He took a scull, and began to row her head round. The wind was north and light. “I hate you,” said Charlie. “I believe you’re doing something. What’s in that box.” “Ballast, you donk,” said Mark. “That it isn’t, I saw it just before you shut the lid. It’s not ballast.” “Let’s let them come,” said Bevis irresolutely. “You awful stupe,” said Mark, under his breath. “They’ll spoil everything.” “And why do you always sail one way?” said Val. “We’ve seen you ever so many times.” “I won’t be watched,” said Bevis angrily: he, unconsciously, endeavoured to excuse his selfishness under rage. “You can’t help it.” “I tell you, I won’t.” “You’re not General Caesar now.” “I hate you,” pulling up the mainsail. Mark took the rope and fastened it; Bevis sat down to the tiller. “You’re a beast,” screamed little Charlie, as the sails drew and the boat began to move: the north wind was just aft. “I never thought you were so selfish,” shouted Val. “Go on--I won’t ask you again.” “Take that,” said Charlie, “and that--and that.” He threw three stones, one after the other, with all his might: the third, rising from the surface of the water, struck the Pinta’s side sharply. “Aren’t they just horrid?” he said to Val. “I never saw anything like it,” said Val. “But we’ll pay them out, somehow.” On the boat, Bevis looked back presently, and saw them still standing at the water’s edge. “It’s a pity,” he said; “Mark, I don’t like it: shall we have them?” “How can we? Of course they would spoil everything; they would tell everybody, and we could never do it; and, besides, the new island would not be a new island, if everybody was there.” “No more it would.”