Away across the head of the bay lay the fishing village from which they had come, with its lattice-windows glittering and flashing in the sunshine, which gilded the luggers that were slowly stealing out to the fishing-ground miles away. Some of them were urged forward by long oars so as to get them beyond the shelter of the land, and into the range of the soft breeze that was rippling the bay far out, though where the fishing party lay the heaving sea, save where it broke upon the rocks, was as smooth as glass. "Now, young gentlemen," said Josh quietly, "congers is queer customers; sometimes they'll bite." Arthur shivered. "Sometimes they won't. I think to-night we shall ketch some." "Two lines out, eh, Josh?" said Will. "Ay, two's enough," replied the fisherman; "let the young gents ketch 'em, and we'll do the gawfing and unhooking. You 'tend Master Dickard there; I'll 'tend Master Taffarthur, and let's see who'll get first fish. Starboard's our side, port's yourn." As he spoke he nodded knowingly to Arthur and took out his knife, seized a pilchard, cut off its head, and split the fish partly up towards the tail and extracted the backbone, so that it was in two flaps. Then taking the large hook, he passed it in at the tail, drew the pilchard carefully up the shank, and then held up the hook for Arthur to see, with the broad flaps hanging down on either side of the curve and barbed point. "There," he said, "Mr Conger Eel, Esquire, won't notice that there's a hook in that nice tasty bit of pilchar'. He'll take it for his supper, and to-morrow he'll make conger pie. Now, are you ready?" "Yes," cried Arthur, making an effort to master his dread. "Right, then," cried Josh; "lift the lead there over the side, and I'll drop in the bait, and we shall have no tangle." Arthur lifted a heavy piece of lead of the shape of a long egg cut down through its long diameter and attached by wire rings to the line, and lowered it over the side, Josh dropping in the silvery bait of pilchard at the same moment, and as the lead sank the bait seemed to dart down as if alive, disappearing in the dark clear water as the line ran rapidly over the side. "Let your line run, lad; there's good seven fathom o' water just here. That's the way," said Josh. "Now she's at the bottom." _Plash, plash_! came from the other side of the boat, and Dick shouted, "Hooray, Taff! here goes for first fish." "Never you mind him," said Josh to Arthur. "Now, then, hold hard; haul up a fathom o' line--that's the way: now your bait's just by the bottom, and you'll know when you've got a bite." Arthur obeyed, and sat in the boat holding the line with both hands as rigid as a wax image, and gazing hopelessly at the rough fisherman, whose one short arm seemed horribly clever and deft, but he fancied it would be awkward if he had to deal with a large eel. "Hadn't you better get the chopper ready?" said Arthur hoarsely.