“I have written to Sir Gervais Vyner the letter you see here, asking him to be your guardian in case I should die before your return. I have reason to hope he will not refuse me. If he accept, you will obey him in all things. You would obey me, at all events. Whenever you return to England, seek him out, and learn to know him as the last friend I had left me.” “I will, Sir.” The calm and resolute tone of the boy seemed for an instant almost to overcome the father, who stood and stared steadfastly at him. “I have told Sir Gervais,” he continued, “that he will find you honourable, truthful, and brave; see that my words be borne out. And I have besought him to give you all that his friendship can bestow; but on no account--mind this, boy--on no account assist you with money. You hear me, Harry?” “I do, Sir. I will not forget your words.” “If you should have any immediate call for money, I have told your Captain I will repay him for what he will advance you; be thrifty, for I have but little to live on, as you will discover one of these days when it is all your own.” “My dear Sir,” broke in Mr. M’Kinlay, as he bustled into the room, all coated and muffled for the journey. “Will you pardon me if I say we shall lose the tide if we delay. This young gentleman’s luggage is all onboard, and if there be no very urgent reason for deferring our departure, I should take it as a favour to say good-by.” “There is nothing unreasonable in your haste, Sir,” said Luttrell, with a faint smile. “This is a place where few would care to dally. I have been saying a few words to my son, before he leaves me. This is the cause of your delay.” “My dear Sir, I offer a thousand apologies, and beg to retire at once.” “They are all said, Sir. Harry and I have nothing more of any consequence to talk over. If Sir Gervais had not been here himself, Mr. M’Kinlay, I’d have asked you to paint us somewhat less savage than we are. Oh, here comes the Captain.” “I say, youngster,” cried Dodge, entering, “if you ain’t bent on kissin’ the ugliest population I ever saw since I left the Feejees, just step out by the back of the house, and make the best of your way down to the shore. Good day, Sir. You shall have news of us. Let me see; it will be a matter of six months, or so. But I’ll have a sharp look out after the ‘buoy,’ and he’ll do well, you’ll see. Don’t you be surprised if you see him a comin’ in some fine morning with a green monkey or a far-caped baboon. Cheer up, Sir! Don’t let the buoy see you down-hearted,” whispered he. “Come along, Harry! Be lively, my lad; out of that window, and let me find you aboard when I get down.” “Be kind to him!” muttered Luttrell, as he drew his hand hastily across his eyes.