"There, there, Willie, dear, don’t be afraid; he’ll leave you a bit, if you are a good lad, I don’t doubt," laughed Maurice. It had been Bowerman’s duty to attend closely upon his lord, and he had found no opportunity to put his threat in execution. However, now the repast was over, he began to remember what had passed. "Dicky," he said, "come hither." "Not I," said that lively young gentleman. "You can come here, if you want me." "Be quiet, varlets!" called out Sir John Trenchard, who was sitting on a settle on the deck not far off. "If you want to jangle, wait till you get ashore." They were now splashing through the tide, which ran swiftly over the Brambles, the steersman keeping the vessel’s head well up to it, so as not to be carried down past the Newport river. Larger and larger loomed up the island. Away to their left lay Portsmouth and the ridge of Portsdown; to their right they could see far down the Solent, point after point standing up in ever-decreasing clearness, until the distant Node Hill, above Freshwater, where the land trended away to the south-west, loomed up faint and grey in the shimmering haze of the lovely afternoon. Nearer and nearer they drew to the island, and as they approached the land Ralph saw that a fine stretch of water opened up ahead. "The tide’s making out amain yet," said the skipper, approaching Lord Woodville, with cap in hand. "What will be your lordship’s pleasure? Shall we run in and anchor, and land your lordship, or will it please you that we try to stem the tide? Natheless it will be but a poor job we shall make of it till the tide turns; and then we sha’n’t have water far up for some while." "Run us ashore at Northwood,[*] we will ride up to Carisbrooke. Our baggage can come up afterwards, in the evening, when the tide makes enough to float you up to Newport Quay." [*] Cowes as yet (1487) was not. The building of the castles by Henry VIII., sixty years afterwards, was the beginning of Cowes. "Ay, ay, my lord." Ralph watched the movements of the crew with curiosity. As they ran in before the wind, which was very fitful, he saw them brail up the mainsail, then as they ran up past the land, which was all covered with woods and bush, they took in the foresail, and gently, under the light pressure of the jib, the barge slithered on the mud, close to a shingle hard, where it was possible to disembark at low tide. And now again all was confusion. The other barges ran in alongside the Captain’s. The gangways were lowered down. The horses with great difficulty were partly lowered, partly driven out on to the shingle. The grooms and men-at-arms got out, and led the horses up to form their ranks on the grass sward at the foot of the woods, which then stretched in unbroken verdure from Northwood Church to Gurnard Bay and Thorness, forming part of the King’s Forest of Alvington, Watchingwell, or Parkhurst.