“I could not be sure of Sam; but I am quite sure that Hal could not.” Here the dinner-bell rang; the hungry populace rushed to the dining-room, and the meal was gone through as merrily as could be, while still the father never spoke to Henry. Uncle John was as pleasant and good-natured as possible. Who would have thought of the marked difference he made between dining with barbarians, or young gentlefolks! Dinner over, Captain Merrifield called Sam,—or rather, since that was not necessary, as Sam was never willingly a yard from his elbow, he ordered the others not to follow as they went into the garden together. “Sam,” he said, “Admiral Penrose is kind enough to offer me a berth in the _Ramilies_ for one of you. If you can pass the examination, should you wish to avail yourself of the offer?” Sam grew very red in the face, looked down, and twirled the button of his sleeve. He certainly was not a gracious boy, for all he said was in a gruff hoarse voice, without even thanks, “Not if it is for this.” “For this! What do you mean, Sam?” said Captain Merrifield, thinking either that the boy was faint-hearted, or that his wish had been the mere fancy of the girls. “Not if it is to punish Hal,” said Sam, with another effort. “That is not the question. Do you wish it?” Sam hung his head, and made his eyebrows come down, as if they were to serve as a veil to those horrid tears in his eyes; and after all, his voice sounded sulky, as he said, “Yes.” “Is that all?” said the Captain, angry and disappointed. “Is that the way you take such an offer? If you had rather stay here, and be bred up to be a country squire, say so at once; don’t mince the matter!” “O Papa!” cried Sam indignantly, “how can you think that? Didn’t I always want to be like you?” “Then why can’t you say so?” “Because I can’t bear to cut Hal out!” said Sam, putting his arm over his eyes, as a way he considered secret of disposing of his tears. “Put that out of your head, Sam; or if you don’t fancy the sea, have it out at once.” “O Papa! please listen. You know, though Miss Fosbrook is very jolly, we couldn’t help getting nohow when you were away, _us_ two particularly.” “You have no mischief to confess, surely, Sam?” said his father, really imagining that this preference to Hal was acting on him so as to make him mention some concealed misdemeanour; “if you have, you know truth is the best line.”