up a string. See here." He rapidly twisted the ends together into a
reef-knot. "There's strength and beauty together," he said. "Look how
neat it is, the ends tidy along the standing part, all so neat as
pie. Besides, it'd never jam. Watch how I do it, and then try it for
yourself."

Very soon we had both mastered the reef-knot, and had tried our hand
at others--the bowline, the figure of eight, the Carrick-bend, and the
old swab-hitch. He was very patient with us. He told us exactly how
each knot would be used at sea, and when, and why, and what the
officers would say, and how things would look on deck while they were
in the doing. The time passed pleasantly and quickly; we felt like
jolly robbers in a cave. It was like being the hero of a story-book to
sit there with that rough man waiting till the troops had gone. It was
not very cold with the fire and the boat-rugs. We were heartily sorry
when the man rose to his feet, with the remark that he must see if the
coast were clear. Before he left the hut he glared down at us. "Look
here," he said, "don't you try to go till I give the word. But there,
we're friends; no need to speak rough to friends. I'll be back in a
minute."

The strange man passed out of the hut and along the rabbit-run to the
edge of the gorse. We heard his feet crunch upon the snow beyond,
rustling the leaves underneath it; and then it was very, very quiet
again, though once, in the stillness, we heard a cock pheasant
calling. Another pheasant answered him from somewhere above at the
upper part of the wood, and it occurred to both of us that the
pheasants were the night-riders, making their private signals.

"We've had a famous adventure to tell Mother," said Hugh.