And now Geoffrey Trethick, who had become deeply interested, unaware of the fact that he was the chief object of attraction to the people on the cliff, saw for the first time that a small boat, managed by a couple of men, remained by the other end of the net, and that as the first boat came nearer towards making a circle, the lesser boat was put in motion. These were the most anxious moments, and the little crowd upon the cliff seemed to hold its breath. Then as the dark dots that represented the corks were seen to have nearly joined, the two boats being in the open space, there was a bit of a cheer. "Tchah! Fools!" said a harsh voice close to Trethick's ear. "They have not caught them yet!" Geoffrey turned, and found that the words proceeded from a little, withered, yellow-faced man, in a very old-fashioned dress. He was well-to-do, evidently, for a bunch of heavy gold seals hung from a black watch-ribbon, his Panama hat was of the finest quality, and there was something dapper and suggestive of the William the Fourth gentleman, in the blue coat, with gilt buttons, and neat drab trousers. "I said, Tchah! Fools!" repeated the little man, on noticing Geoffrey's inquiring gaze. "They have not got them yet!" "Many a slip betwixt cup and lip, eh?" said Geoffrey, quietly. "Yes: one pull of the net over a rock--one blunder, and away goes the school; and that's life?" "You mean that's your idea of life," said Geoffrey. "No, I don't, boy. I mean that's life!" "According to your view," said Geoffrey, smiling. "According to what it is," said the old man, testily. "What the devil do you know of life, at your age?" "Ah! that would take some telling," replied Geoffrey. "You and I would have to argue that matter out." "Argue? Bah! Do I look a man with time to waste in argument?" "Well, no; nor yet in getting out of temper, and calling people fools," said Geoffrey, with a smile. The old man thumped his thick malacca cane upon the stones, and stared aghast at the stranger who dared to speak to him in so free and contradictory a manner in a place where, after a fashion, he had been a kind of king. "Here, you: Rumsey!" he cried, panting with anger and pointing at Geoffrey with his cane, as a fair, fresh-coloured man in grey tweed came slowly up; "who the devil is this fellow?" "Don't be cross, old gentleman," said Geoffrey, laughing. "I will tell you my name if you like." "Confound your name, sir! What the deuce are you--a bagman?" "No," said Geoffrey; "but look," he added quickly, as he pointed to the circle of nets. "What does that mean?" "Ha, ha, ha! I told you so," chuckled the old man, whose face underwent a complete change. "They've got on a rock, and the whole school has gone." "Poor fellows! What a disappointment," said Geoffrey. "Bah! A man must expect disappointments here. Rumsey, I'm horribly bilious this morning," he continued, turning to the fresh-coloured man.