When we passed the town we felt some anxiety for fear we should be stopped; but there was no one on the bank, and though the towers of S. Philip and S. James appeared again and again in lessening size as we looked back, there came at last a bend in the canal, when a high bank of gorse shut out the distance, and we saw them no more.

In about an hour, having had no breakfast, we began to speak seriously of the pie. (I had observed Fred breaking little corners from the crust with an absent air more than once.) Thinking of the first subdivision under the word Hardships in my handbook, I said, “I’m afraid we ought to wait till we are worse hungry.”

But Fred said, “Oh no!” And that out adventure-seeking it was quite impossible to save and plan and divide your meals exactly, as you could never tell what might turn up.  The captain always said, “Take good luck and bad luck and pot-luck as they come!” So Fred assured me, and we resolved to abide by the captain’s rule.

“We may have to weigh out our food with a bullet, like Admiral Bligh, next week,” said Fred.

“So we may,” said I. And the thought must have given an extra relish to the beefsteak and hard-boiled eggs, for I never tasted anything so good.

Whether the smell of the pie went aft, or whether something else made the barge-master turn round and come forward, I do not know; but when we were encumbered with open clasp-knives, and full mouths, we saw him bearing down upon us, and in a hasty movement of retreat I lost my balance, and went backward with a crash upon a tub of potatoes.

The noise this made was not the worst part of the business.  I was tightly wedged amongst the odds and ends, and the money-bag being sharply crushed against the match-box, which was by this time well warmed, the matches exploded in a body, and whilst I was putting as heroic a face as I could on the pain I was enduring in my right funny-bone, Fred cried, “Your jacket’s smoking.  You’re on fire!”

Whether Mr. Rowe, the barge-master, had learnt presence of mind out of a book, I do not know; but before Fred and I could even think of what to do in the emergency, my jacket was off, the matches were overboard, and Mr. Rowe was squeezing the smouldering fire out of my pocket, rather more deliberately than most men brush their hats.  Then, after civilly holding the jacket for me to put it on again, he took off his hat, took his handkerchief out of it, and wiped his head, and replacing both, with his eyes upon us, said, more deliberately still, “Well, young gentlemen, this is a nice start!”

It was impossible to resist the feeling of confidence inspired by Mr. Rowe’s manner, his shrewd and stolid appearance, and his promptness in an emergency.  Besides, we were completely at his mercy.  We appealed to it, and told him our plans.  We offered him a share of the pie too, which he accepted with conscious condescension.  When the dish was empty he brought his handkerchief into use once more, and then said, in a peculiarly oracular manner, “You just look to me, young gentlemen, and I’ll put you in the way of every think.”