"Explain yourself."
"I ask no reward, your Majesty, but the discharge of this young recruit." As he spoke Captain Salt drew Tristram forward from the doorway, where he was standing awkwardly.
"This is very extraordinary. I expected some request for money, I will confess."
"There are some things which rank above money," said the Captain with feeling.
"We are told so," replied William drily. "But might I ask for an instance or two?"
"There is paternal love. Your Majesty, this young man is my son." The Captain, at this point, brushed away a tear with the back of his hand.
"Why—but surely I remember his face?"
"That is probable: for you yourself, sire, did him the honour to enlist him, no longer ago than last Friday."
"I remember the occasion. But it did not then appear—at least, to my recollection—that he was a son of yours, Captain Salt."
"Will your Majesty be good enough to note the likeness between us?"