CHAPTER FIVE.
FAREWELL TO FANAD.
After that, life went uneventfully for a time with Tim and me.

Now that the cabin was empty father visited us seldom.

His voyages took him longer than before, and we had a shrewd guess that they were not all in search of fish; for little enough of that he brought home.

Young as we boys were we knew better than to ask him questions.

Only when he showed us his pocket full of French coin, or carried up by night a keg of spirits that had never been brewed in a lawful distillery, or piloted some foreign-looking craft after dark into one of the quiet creeks along the coast, or spent an evening in confidential talk with his honour and other less reputable characters, we guessed he was embarked on a business of no little risk, which might land him some fine day, with a file of marines to take care of him, in Derry Jail.
For all that, I would fain have taken to the sea with him; for every day I longed more for the open life of a sailor, and chafed at the shackles of my landsman's fate.