And I'll talk to your mother." My grandfather and Krok had got most of the seaweed drawn up onto the stones above tide-level, and as soon as we had secured the rest they came up to the house with me, wet and hungry.

I had told my grandfather simply that George Hamon was there, but said nothing about our business.

He greeted him warmly.
"George, my boy, you should come in oftener." "Ay, ay! If I came as often as I wanted you'd be for turning me out,"-- with a nod to Krok, who replied with a cheerful smile, and went to the fire.
"You know better.

Your welcome always waits you.

What's in the wind now ?" "Phil wants to go privateering," said my mother.