Though he did not know all that had passed, yet he saw the awkwardness and difficulty of Ormond’s present situation, and, whatever it might cost him to part with his young friend, with his adopted son, Corny determined not to detain him longer. “Harry Ormond, my boy,” said he to him one day, “time for you to see something of the world, also for the world to see something of you; I’ve kept you here for my own pleasure too long: as long as I had any hope of settling you as I wished ‘twas a sufficient excuse to myself; but now I have none left--I must part with you: and so, by the blessing, God helping me to conquer my selfishness, and the yearnings of my heart towards you, I will. I mean,” continued he, “to send you far from me--to banish you for your good from the Black Islands entirely. Nay, don’t you interrupt me, nor say a word; for if you do, I shall be too soft to have the heart to do you justice. You know you said yourself, and I felt it for you, that it was best you should leave this. Well, I have been thinking of you ever since, and licking different projects into shape for you--listening too to every thing Connal threw out; but all he says that way is in the air--no substance, when you try to have and to hold--too full of himself, that youngster, to be a friend to another.” “There is no reason why he should be my friend, sir,” said Ormond--“I do not pretend to be his; and I rejoice in not being under any obligations to him.” “Right!--and high!--just as I feel for you. After all, I approve of your own wish to go into the British service in preference to any foreign service, and you could not be of the Irish brigade--Harry.” “Indeed, sir, I infinitely prefer,” said Ormond, “the service of my own country--the service in which my father--I know nothing of my father, but I have always heard him spoken of as a good officer; I hope I shall not disgrace his name. The English service for me, sir, if you please.” “Why, then, I’m glad you see things as I do, and are not run away with by uniform, and _all that_. I have lodged the needful in the bank, to purchase a commission for you, my son. Now! no more go to thank me, if you love me, Harry, than you would your own father. I’ve written to a friend to choose a regiment in which there’d be as little danger as possible for you.” “As little danger as possible!” repeated Harry, surprised. “Phoo! you don’t think I mean as little danger of fighting. I would not wrong you so. No--but as little danger of gambling. Not that you’re inclined to it, or any thing else that’s bad--but there is no knowing what company might lead the best into; and it is my duty and inclination to look as close to all these things as if for my own son.” “My kind father--no father could be kinder,” cried Harry, quite overpowered.