“Oh, don’t you make any error,” retorted the captain. “It isn’t salt-water trading we’re in for. We aren’t such gulls as that. We know too much about it, both of us. We’re going to start in farming.”
“Farming? What do either of you know about that?”
“Oh, don’t you take me for a fool, sir. I can learn as well as any one; and so can the donkeyman. We shall get three hundred acres of land granted to the pair of us for nothing in North-West Canada, and even if crops failed altogether, we’ve enough saved up to live on for the first two years. We can try it, anyhow, when you give us our discharge from here. Ever since I worked at sea,” he added plaintively, “I’ve always wished to be a farmer.”
“I think,” said Onslow, “I would dissuade you from the attempt if I could; but I know it’s no use trying, so I will hold my tongue on that point. As to when your bargain is up with the Port Edes, you can put that at half an hour from now if you like. Anyway, I’m going to leave her directly, and I never intend to return here again.”
Captain Kettle’s jaw dropped. “What?” he gasped.
“I have changed my mind,” Onslow said, “or had it changed for me. For my part, that gold will remain where it is. I am not going to touch a sovereign of it.”
“Look here,” said Captain Kettle, “do you mind telling me? Did you come against some preacher during the cyclone, and get religion from him?”
“I think I know what you mean. But you’re on the wrong track. I’m not the sort who announces publicly that he will cease to be a sinner just because he finds himself in physical danger.”
“No,” said Kettle; “come to think of it, I should have known you were not. I was a fool to ask that question. But it settles it in another direction. There’s a woman got hold of you.”