The Beautiful Wretch; The Pupil of Aurelius; and The Four MacnicolsBlack, William
General
The Beautiful Wretch; The Pupil of Aurelius; and The Four Macnicols
Black, William
Great Britain -- Fiction
Then it was that the diligent patching and the strong tackle told. The
question was not with regard to the strength of the net, it was rather
with regard to the strength of the younger lads; for they had succeeded
in enclosing a goodly portion of a large shoal of mackerel, and the
weight seemed more than they could get into the boat. But even the
strength of the younger ones seemed to grow into the strength of giants
when they saw through the clear water a great moving mass like
quicksilver. And then the wild excitement of hauling in; the
difficulty of it; the danger of the fish escaping; the warning cries of
Rob; the clatter made by the mackerel; the possibility of swamping the
boat altogether, as all the four were straining their utmost at one
side. Indeed, by an awkward tilt at one moment some hundred or two of
the mackerel were seen to glide away; but perhaps that rendered it all
the more practicable to get into the boat what remained. When that
heaving, sparkling, jerking mass of quicksilver at last was
captured--shining all through the brown meshes of the net--the younger
lads sat down quite exhausted, wet through, and happy.
'Man, Rob, what do you think of that?' said Neil in amazement.
'What do I think?' said Rob; 'I think that if we could get two or three
more hauls like that I would soon buy a share in Coll MacDougall's boat
and go after the herring.'
They had no more thought that afternoon of 'cuddy'-fishing after this
famous take. Rob and Neil--the younger ones having had their
share--rowed back to Erisaig; then Rob left the boat at the slip, and
walked up to the office of the fish-salesman.
'What will ye give me for mackerel?' he said.
The salesman laughed at him, thinking he had caught a few with rods and
flies.
'I'm no buying mackerel,' said he; 'no by the half-dozen.'
'I've half a boat load,' said Rob.
The salesman glanced towards the slip, and saw the tailor's boat pretty
low in the water.
'Is that mackerel?'
'Yes, it is mackerel.'
'Where were you buying them?'
'I was not buying them anywhere. I caught them myself--my brothers and
me.'
'I do not believe you.'
'I cannot help that, then,' said Rob. 'But where had I the money to
buy mackerel from any one?'
The salesman glanced at the boat again.
'I'll go down to the slip with you.'
So he and Rob together walked down to the slip, and the salesmen had a
look at the mackerel. Apparently he had arrived at the conclusion
that, after all, Rob was not likely to have bought a cargo of mackerel
as a commercial speculation.
'Well, I will buy the mackerel from you,' he said. 'I will give you
half-a-crown the hundred for them.'
'Half-a-crown!' said Rob. 'I will take three-and-sixpence the hundred
for them.'
'I will not give it to you. But I will give you three shillings the
hundred, and a good price, too.'
'Very well, then,' said Rob.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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