"Not seen him!" repeated dad, much surprised. "Where can he be?" "Dunno, massa. He put him Dandy an' Prince in 'table an' den him say um feel berry bad, an' go way." "Poor fellow, he may be really ill! I must look after him," said my father putting on his hat and proceeding round to the stables; but as he could see nothing of Jake he soon returned, for the afternoon was getting on and it was time to have my luggage carried down to the boat of the _Josephine_ as well as for me to see about going on board also. While my trunks were being taken to the wharf by Pompey and the other two darkeys, I had to pass through the painful ordeal of bidding farewell to my mother and sisters. The less I say about this the better! Baby Tot could not grasp the idea that I was really going away from her until the very last moment, when, seeing the others overcome with emotion, especially my mother, who was crying as if her heart would break, my little sister clung round my neck so tightly that dad had to unclasp her tiny fingers one by one before she would release her hold of me. As for my mother's last kiss and her broken words, telling me always to fear God and be good, whatever might betide, I can never forget them. At length the parting was over, when dad calling me in a husky voice to come along, I proceeded with him down to the wharf, where the _Josephine's_ boat was lying alongside the steamboat landing-stage, waiting for me to start. Here another farewell had to be taken of old Pompey and the negro servants who had brought my traps from the hotel; but, strange to say, I could see nothing of Jake, so I had to commission one of the others to say good-bye to him for me. At the last moment, too, Doctor Martin came up and gave me one of his hearty hand-shakes, bidding me "always tell the truth and shame the devil," pointing out at the same time that he had sent down a lot of fresh cocoa-nuts for me that had been stowed in the ship's boat with my luggage. He thought they would "come in handy," he said, for assuaging my thirst during the hot weather I might expect before getting out of the tropics. Then came the final wrench of dear old dad's last embrace and sad God-speed, after which the boat shoved off from the shore, bearing me, almost heart-broken, with all my belongings out to the _Josephine_, which anchored at the mouth of the harbour with her blue peter flying, her sails loosed, and every sign of departure. "Cheer up, my sonny!" said Moggridge, my old friend the boatswain, as I sat in the stern of the boat with my face buried in my hands, for I had not the courage to look back at those I was leaving; "I thought you were a reg'lar chip of the old block, and your father told you mind, sir, to be a man."