“At the beginning, of course. I want to see you as a boy before I hear of you as a man.”
With a manly frankness, and a modesty totally devoid of any affectation, he told the story of his sea life; the strange lands and people he had seen; the wild spots he had visited; the hopes of fortune at one time full and radiant, at another dashed and destroyed by disaster; dreams of wealth and affluence rudely dispelled by mischances; and, last of all—the crowning calamity—the attack made by the Riffs, and his captivity amongst the Moors.
“Was home very often in your thoughts through these reverses?” asked she, gravely.
“Seldom out of my thoughts, Kate. It had not been, as you may know, a very cheerful or a happy home. It was a lonely, gloomy life I led here, but I believe sorrows can attach just as well as joys, and I longed to see the old rock again, and I used to fancy how much more companionable I could be to my poor father now that I had grown up and had learnt something of the world and its ways. All my misfortunes were nothing compared to the sorrowful tidings that met me as I landed at Genoa, and learned I was alone in the world, without even one to care for me.”
“You went at once to Sir Gervais Vyner’s. Tell me about them.” “You know them better than I do, Kate,” said he, smiling. “Ada told me of all her love for you—it was the theme she never tired of—your beauty, your wit, your gracefulness, your talent at everything—till I grew half angry. She would talk of nothing else.”
“And Ada herself—what is she like? She was, as a child, almost perfectly beautiful.”
“She is very handsome. Her features are all regular, and her smile is very sweet, and her manner very gentle, and her voice singularly silvery and musical.”
“So that you fell in love with her?” “No,” said he, shaking his head—“no, I did not.” “Yes, yes, you did! That list of her perfections was given too readily not to have been conned over.”
“I tell you again, I felt no love for her. We were whole days together, and lived as a brother and a sister might, talking of whatever interested us most, but one word of love never passed between us.” “A look, then?”
“Not even that. Just think one moment, Kate. Who is she, and who am I?”