“I hope not--I think not; but when people part some are always faint-hearted about the chances of meeting again.” “But you are not, papa?” Luttrell did not answer for a few seconds. “Are you quite sure, Harry, that this life is what you like? I mean,” said he, correcting himself quickly--“I mean, would you not rather live here till you were a man, and make Arran your home, as it is mine now?” “No, papa. I’d like to see the countries that the Captain told of, and see some of the things he did, and then come back very rich, and build a fine castle here, and a great pier out in the sea, and have the finest cutter that ever sailed.” “But, before all this can come to pass, bethink you what a hard life is before you--what days of storm and nights of weariness. You may be hardly used, and have none to pity you--be ill, and not have one to speak kindly to you. Are you ready for all this, Harry?” “I suppose I must bear it if I want to be a man;” and he drew himself up proudly as he spoke. “You’ll have to remember, too, Sir, that you are a gentleman,” said Luttrell, almost sternly; “that there are scores of mean and shabby things the fellows around may-do, a Luttrell must not stoop to. Keep your word when you once pledge it; insult no man willingly; fight him who insults you; and never, if it be your fortune to command others, never say ‘Go,’ in a moment of danger, but ‘Come.’” “I’ll not forget that,” said the boy, seriously. “Keep this purse, Harry. It was one your mother knitted, many years ago. The few guineas that are in it spend when and how you like; only remember that when gone they cannot easily be replaced by me. And now give me a kiss, for they must see us part easily.” The boy sprang into his arms, and held him fast in his embrace, while he kissed him over and over; and Luttrell parted the hair upon his forehead, kissing him tenderly there, as he muttered a few words beneath his breath. “There, go back to them, Harry, and tell them I will join them presently.” As Harry left the room, Luttrell lighted his lamp, and sat down at his table to write. It was to Vyner he addressed himself, and intended to be as brief as might be--very little, indeed, more than the intimation that he had accepted the trust proposed to him, and begged in turn Vyner would do as much by him, and consent to be the guardian of his boy, should he be left fatherless. “I ask this with all the more confidence,” wrote he, “that your kind interest in poor Harry is so fresh in my mind, and all your generous offers to befriend him are the only cheering thoughts that occur to me in this, one of the gloomiest moments of my life.