“And would you let me?” and he spoke with even a fainter voice, and greater anxiety in his look.
“First answer me my question, Harry. Do you wish to go?”
“Yes, papa, greatly.”
Luttrell turned away his head and drew his hand across his eyes, and for several minutes did not look round again. When he did, it was to see the boy standing calm, firm, and erect before him. Not a trace of emotion on his features, as his eyes confronted his own.
“I suppose you are right,” said Luttrell, half speaking to himself. “I suppose you are right. It is very dreary here!”
“And there are no wild beasts to hunt, nor red men to fight, nor beautiful birds to catch, papa; nor any gold——”
“No, boy! There is not any gold, assuredly. But, remember, Harry, how many there are here who never saw gold, never heard of it; brave fellows, too, who are not afraid to scale the straightest cliff, nor venture out on the stormiest sea.”
“And for what, papa? For a curlew’s nest, or a hamper of fish; and he, yonder, tells me, that one good voyage of his barque would buy out all the islands here for ever.”
“So, then, you have eaten of the apple already,” cried he, with a bitter laugh. “Well, as he has tempted, he may take you. Send him to me.”
The boy almost flew in his speed back, and gulping out a word or two, pointed to his father.