Part 32 (1/2)

”Last, but far from least of all, the family to which Harry's mother belonged contains many very bold, restless, and I might say dangerous, men. One of the reasons of my retirement to this lonely spot was the security I possessed in the midst of my own wild islanders against demands not always urged with moderation. They are not likely to forget the near relations.h.i.+p to my boy, if they can make it a source of profit; or, failing that, to convert it to a matter of menace. On every account, therefore, I entreat that he may not come back here, or, if so, but pa.s.singly.

”I hope he will never sell these islands; they would be a sorry commodity in the market, and they are the oldest possessions of our name in this kingdom. When Henry the Second sent John de Luttrell as Envoy to Rome but where am I straying to? The shouts that ring without tell me that all is ready for their departure, and in a few moments more I shall be alone in the world. Think of me sometimes, dear friend, even if the thought come in your happy hours to dash its joys with sadness; but do not speak of, last of all, do not write to,

”Yours, while he lives,

”John Hamilton Luttrell.

”I am half ashamed to add one other request; but if my cheeks grow red as I write, my heart will be the calmer when it is written. Be a friend to my boy in all ways that your kindness, your sympathy, your counsel can dictate. Guide, direct, encourage, or, if need be, reprove him; but never, whatever you do, aid him with your purse. It is on this condition alone I commit him to you. Remember!”

”They are growing impatient, papa,” said the boy, entering the room half timidly. ”It is nigh flood, and we shall want all the ebb to take us round the Caskets.”

”And are _you_ so impatient to be off, Harry?” said he, in a low soft voice; ”do you wish to leave me, Harry?”

”Not if you would have me stay, papa; but I thought, I used to think at least--that----”

”That we made but little companions.h.i.+p together, you would say,” said Luttrell, mildly; ”that we lived too much apart. Well, it is true,” said he, with a deep sigh, ”quite true.” He paused for a moment, and then, with a sort of effort, and in a changed voice, continued: ”If I should be no more here when you come back, Harry, do not let this old place fall to ruin. It has sheltered me during many a year of sorrow, and sorrow has a very attaching quality!”

”Papa, I will not go. I will not leave you!” said the boy, falling on his neck, and kissing him over and over.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 187]

”You must be manly, Sir,” said Luttrell, rising and disengaging himself from the boy's embrace. ”When men promise, they are bound to keep their word.”

The tone, the look, the gesture, fully as much as the stern words themselves, recalled Harry to himself, and he drew his hand roughly across his eyes, and stepping back, stationed himself, as he was wont, to hear his father's commands.

”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 friends.h.i.+p can bestow; but on no account--mind this, boy--on no account a.s.sist 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 m.u.f.fled 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 sh.o.r.e. 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,”