Peter Duck. Arthur Ransome

on a moving compass card, and tall masts swaying across the stars at night. And he wished he could go to sea once more and make another voyage before it was too late.

      That morning Captain Flint and his two nieces had been even busier than usual, tidying up their ship, throwing chips and shavings over the side, swabbing down decks and paintwork and sweeping the dirty water out through the scuppers. And every now and then they kept looking up to the quay and along it towards the Custom-House and the harbourmaster’s office and the road from the railway station. Old Peter Duck, smoking his pipe on the quay, twisted himself round and scratched his head and wondered what they were looking for. And then a telegraph-boy had come along the quay on a red bicycle, and Captain Flint had run up the ladder to meet him, and torn open the orange envelope of a telegram, and given the boy a sixpence and said there was no answer. “Well, that’s done it,” he had said to those two girls. “He can’t come. He can’t come at all. And we can’t start without him. And it’s too late to send a wire to the Swallows. They’ll be here any time now.” All three of them aboard the schooner looked very glum after that. But it was clear that they were expecting someone else besides the telegraph-boy, for Captain Nancy and Mate Peggy still hung about on deck, and kept looking up every two minutes. Perhaps, thought Peter Duck, they were waiting for that crew of theirs. And suddenly, round the corner by the Custom-House, came two boys and two girls, helping a porter to push a handcart along and keeping the luggage on the handcart from tumbling off. On the top of the luggage was a green parrot in a cage. A monkey, on a lead, was hurrying along after the smaller of the two boys. Peter Duck had a look at them and thought they must have taken the wrong turning.

      The four were all talking at once. Something had just happened to startle them.

      “Did you see he had gold ear-rings?” asked Able-seaman Titty.

      “Why did he look so angry?” asked Roger, the ship’s boy.

      “Why shouldn’t Old Polly say ‘Pieces of eight!’ if he wants to?” said Captain John.

      “Probably it was just a mistake,” said Mate Susan.

      “Lucky for you it’s not his vessel you’re looking for,” said the porter.

      “Why? Has he got a ship?”

      “Black Jake’s not the sort of chap it’s safe to quarrel with,” said the porter. “ ‘Pieces of eight!’ your bird said. Well, there’s many a boy in this town got a sore head for shouting that after Black Jake. You mustn’t speak of treasure to Black Jake. No. Nor yet of crabs. Look, that’s his ship. That black schooner over there on the other side. This’ll be yours. What did you say her name was?”

      “Wild Cat,” said Titty.

      “She’s called after our island,” said Roger.

      “There’s no name on her that I can see” said the porter. “They’ve been new painting of her.”

      But at that moment Nancy and Peggy looked up and saw them coming along the quay.

      “Here they are,” Peggy bent and shouted through the skylight to Captain Flint, who was busy down below.

      Peter Duck had another look at the Swallows. So they were for the little schooner, were they? They hadn’t taken a wrong turning after all.

      Nancy and Peggy ran to the ladder and climbed up to the quay from the deck of the schooner.

      “Here you are at last,” shouted Nancy. “Swallows and Amazons for ever! Come on. She’s a beauty, the Wild Cat. Real bunks in the cabins, one above another. The ones with longest legs have the top bunks. And Captain Flint’s been building a cage for Gibber. It’s the best cabin any monkey ever had.”

      “We’ve got a gorgeous galley to do the cooking in,” Mate Peggy called to Mate Susan. “On deck, too, so there won’t be any smells down below.”

      “Swallows and Amazons for ever!” John, Susan, Titty, and Roger shouted back, remembering how they had shouted that over the water to each other as their little boats, the Swallow and the Amazon, were sailing home on the last day of those holidays on the lake in the north. There was great shaking of hands. Nancy and Peggy shook hands even with Gibber, and had their fingers nipped a little by the parrot, for old time’s sake. The parrot had been in high spirits ever since the railway journey had come to an end. “Pieces of eight!” he screamed, “Pieces of eight!” just as Nancy had taught him ever so long ago.

      “He hasn’t forgotten,” said Nancy.

      THE SWALLOWS JOIN THE SHIP

      The four Swallows were waving their hands to Captain Flint, who had just come on deck. But at this Titty turned round.

      “Of course he hasn’t,” she said. “He’s got a splendid memory. He was shouting it like anything just now, when we were coming out of the station, and there was a man with gold ear-rings . . .”

      “ ‘What’s that? What’s that?’ the man said.” Roger interrupted. “The man went on saying, “What’s that? Whose is that bird?’ and he pushed his horrid face at us, and tried to take hold of the cage. Titty wouldn’t let him, but he came with us all the way until the man by the bridge stopped him and told him to leave us alone . . .”

      “How do, Mr. Duck?” said the porter, as the old sailor nodded towards the opposite quay where a handsome black schooner was lying. “Aye, it was him. Getting worse then he used to be is Black Jake. We’ll be well rid of him when he gets away. They say he’s off to have another look at them crabs of yours. He’s got the scum of the place with him in that hooker of his.”

      Captain Flint came climbing up the ladder to the quay.

      “Hullo, Captain John,” he said. “Hullo, Mister Mate. Glad to see you, Able-seaman. Hullo, Roger, not yet tired of being a ship’s boy? Hullo, Polly. And how’s Gibber?”

      “We were most awfully afraid we were going to be late,” said John. “The train got held up by something or other. Have you been waiting for us? When are we going to start?”

      Peter Duck saw Captain Flint and his two nieces look suddenly grave.

      “That’s the whole trouble,” said Nancy.

      “We can’t start,” said Peggy.

      “We’ve just had the telegram,” said Captain Flint. “The man who was coming with us can’t get away. We’ve got to begin looking round for someone else.”

      “We may be days and days,” said Peggy.

      “We just can’t help it,” said Captain Flint. “Anything breakable in these bags?”

      “No,” said Susan. And Captain Flint and the porter carried four long canvas kitbags to the side of the quay and dumped them over so that they fell on the deck of the schooner.

      “Anyway, it’s very jolly just being here,” said John.

      “Did Swallow get hurt on the journey?” asked Titty.

      “Not she,” said Captain Flint. “Go along and see if you can find a scratch on her. There she is in the davits.^* A fine ship’s boat she will make. And we’ve a good dinghy as well.”

      “Good old Swallow,” said Titty, looking down at the little sailing boat that Captain Flint had brought in a crate all the way to Lowestoft from that far-away lake in the north. There she was, hanging from the davits on the starboard side of the schooner, with her oars and her mast and her old brown sail neatly stowed away in her, all ready to be lowered into the harbour. “Good old Swallow.”

      They had cleared the handcart by now. Susan had taken her tin box, black, with