"Didn't it though, sir? Why, it was my hair rose up in such a gashly way it lifted it off. There, now, hold steady, and it won't be long before you have a bite." It was getting so dark now that Arthur could not see whether Josh was laughing at him or not, though for the matter of that, if it had been noontide, he would not have been able to make out the rough fisherman's thoughts by the expression of his countenance. A splash from behind them told them that Dick's bait had just gone in, and then they sat--both couples--chatting away in a low tone, and waiting for the next congers, and somehow waiting in vain. The last glow faded out of the sky, and the stars twinkled in the sea, where they were reflected from above. The great black bird rock stood up, looking gigantic against the western sky, and every now and then there was a querulous cry that set a party of the sea-birds scolding and squealing for a few minutes before all was still again. In the distance across the bay the lights of the harbour shone out faintly at first, then clearly, and the various lamps about the village seemed like dull stars. Still there was no bite, and Arthur rejoiced in his heart, hoping that they would catch no more, and thinking how horrible it would have been to have one of the monsters on board in the dark. Josh had changed the position of Arthur's line several times, and at last he took hold of it and began to haul it in. "Going to leave off?" said Arthur joyously. "No, my lad, not yet. You won't mind me throwing in for you?" "Oh no!" cried the boy. "Then," said Josh, "I'm just going to throw over yonder into the deepest part, and if we don't get one out of there we may give up." Drawing in and laying the line carefully in rings, he took the weight and threw it some distance from them, the lead falling with a heavy plash. Then Dick and Will followed suit on their side, and Arthur was compelled to take the line again from Josh, for the latter said: "Oh no! I'm not going to fish. I can have a turn any day, my lad. Go on, and we'll show 'em this time what it is to fish again' us. A mussy me! we'll give 'em a startler directly. We'll show 'em what conger be." Arthur's hands felt cold and damp as he sat there holding: the line and thinking of what would be the consequences if he hooked a monster and Josh failed to kill it before dragging it on board. It would run all over the boat, and it would be sure to bite him first--he knew it would; and the idea was horrible, making him so nervous that his hands shook as he held the line.