"You can take them back," said Mr Denning, shortly, "I shall not fish to-day." Miss Denning turned round quickly. "John dear!" she whispered, and she gave him a piteous look. He frowned and turned to me, when seeing, I suppose, my disappointment, he smoothed his face and then smiled. "Oh, very well," he said, "I was going to my cabin, but we will have a try." I saw Miss Denning lay her hand upon his arm, but took no notice, for I knelt down on the deck directly, cut a bait ready--a long strip of the bacon rind--stuck the point of the large sharp hook through one end as if I were going to fish for mackerel at home, and then after unwinding some of the line, to which a heavy leaden sinker was attached, I was about to throw the bait over the stern. "But that piece of lead will be too heavy," cried Mr Denning, now full of interest in the fishing. "It will make the line hang straight down, and I keep seeing the fish play near the top." I shook my head. "It will not sink six feet," I said, "because we shall drag it along so fast. If we were going faster I should require a heavier lead." "Ah, well, I suppose you know best," he said, smiling. "Go on." He gave an uneasy glance back along the deck to see if any one else were near but the man at the wheel, who had his back to us, and I let about fifty yards of the stout line run out before I checked it and placed it in Mr Denning's hands as he stood leaning against the bulwarks. "Shall I give a twist round one of the belaying-pins?" I said. "What for?" he cried sharply. "Do you think I am too weak to hold it?" "Oh no," I said quickly, "but we may hook a big fish, and the line would cut your hand." He smiled as if he doubted me, and to guard against his letting go, I unwound the whole of the remaining line and laid it out in rings before fastening the winder tightly beneath the bulwark, so that even if the line were all run out the fish would be checked and caught. Just then Walters came sauntering up, and I could not help thinking that from his size and our uniform being the same, how easily we might be taken one for the other in the gloom of the forecastle. Mr Denning turned and looked at him for a moment, and then back to watch his line without a word, while Miss Denning bowed slightly. "They don't like Walters," I said to myself. "Had any bites?" he said with a sniggering laugh. "No," replied Mr Denning, coldly; "I have only just begun." There was silence for a few minutes, Walters' coming having seemed to damp our proceedings. "Here, I know what's the matter," he said suddenly, taking a couple of steps close up to Mr Denning. "Your bait isn't right." "Mind!" I cried. "You're treading on the line."