"Bah! Years! What are years? He was born after I was, but look at us. I'm a younger man than he. A man's not old till he feels old, skipper; and when he feels old heave him overboard if he be a sailor. If he be a land-goer, dig a hole in his mother-earth and pack him up warm to sprout out and grow little boys for the future times. Well, as I said, suppose you had pricked the old man or he had pricked thee?" "The better for me it seems," said Gil, grimly. "It would be the high road to his favour. But are you sure you are right here? How dark it is!" "Right? to be sure I am," growled Wat; "right as I was to-night in having a bit of a talk with pretty Janet, lad." "And that I forbid for the future," said Gil, stopping with the water nearly up to his waist. "Forbid away," grumbled Wat, "but as long as my skipper goes amongst rocks Wat Kilby goes as well to watch over him the while." "Then that settles it, Wat," said Gil; "I am going no more." "Ho, ho, ho!--ho, ho, ho!" chuckled the old sailor. "Sattles! What? have you and young mistress fallen out?" "Hold your peace!" said Gil, sharply; "and learn to obey my orders." "Saints on earth, I'm like so much wax or Stockholm pitch in his hands, and he does with me as he likes. It's a brave deal deeper here than I thought, skipper; wait till I have out my blade and feel my way a bit." He pulled out his sword, and began to sound with it in the darkness; but, save in the direction of the house and garden, the water seemed to grow deeper and deeper; and, after taking a step or two in different directions, the old fellow drew back and paused grumbling. "It's deeper than I thought," he said; "the water goes down above my head everywhere. Let's wait a bit." "What for?" said Gil, angrily. "Do you think the Pool will grow shallower? This comes of trusting another." "Well, I thought I knowed the bearings," said Wat. "What fools we'd look if it were daylight," said Gil; "standing up to our middles." "Chesties," said Wat, correctively. "Well, to our chests or chins, if you like," cried Gil. "Heaven be praised that it is so dark." "So don't say I," cried Wat, softly; "for if it was not so dark I could see which way to steer." "Do you mean to tell me, Wat," whispered Gil, in a low angry voice, "that you have persuaded me into trusting to your guidance, and that now you know nothing of the depth of the Pool?" "I could have sworn as that little sandy reef ran right across to the other side." "And now there is deep water all round." "Unless we go back." "Confusion!" ejaculated Gil. "Am I to understand that you don't know the way at all?" "Well, skipper," growled Wat, "I won't say I don't know the bearings of the channels; but if you like to take the rudder I'll give up to you."