“True heart! noble heart!” cried Frank. “I knew you would be stanch!”
“Westward-ho it is, then?”
“Can we escape?”
“We?”
“Amyas, does not that which binds you bind me?”
Amyas started back, and held Frank by the shoulders at arm's length; as he did so, he could feel through, that his brother's arms were but skin and bone.
“You? Dearest man, a month of it would kill you!”
Frank smiled, and tossed his head on one side in his pretty way.
“I belong to the school of Thales, who held that the ocean is the mother of all life; and feel no more repugnance at returning to her bosom again than Humphrey Gilbert did.”
“But, Frank,—my mother?”