"I will," said William John Dunn; and then they gave a cheer and
pushed my grandfather off, and he lit his pipe and away he rowed all
into the dead waste of the night. He rowed and rowed, all in the
dead waste of the night; and he got the Gull Rock in a line with
Tregamenna windows; and still he was rowing, when to his great
surprise he heard a voice calling:

"_Hendry Watty! Hendry Watty!_"

I told you my grandfather was the boldest man in Port Loe. But he
dropped his two paddles now, and made the five signs of Penitence.
For who could it be calling him out here in the dead waste and middle
of the night?

"Hendry Watty! Hendry Watty! _drop me a line_."

My grandfather kept his fishing-lines in a little skivet under the
stern-sheets. But not a trace of bait had he on board. If he had,
he was too much a-tremble to bait a hook.

"HENDRY WATTY! HENDRY WATTY! _drop me a line, or I'll know why!_"

My poor grandfather by this had picked up his paddles again, and was
rowing like mad to get quit of the neighbourhood, when something or
somebody gave three knocks--_thump, thump, thump!_--on the bottom of
the boat, just as you would knock on a door. The third thump fetched
Hendry Watty upright on his legs. He had no more heart for
disobeying, but having bitten his pipe-stem in half by this time--his
teeth chattered so--he baited his hook with the broken bit and