Fulbert looked up. 'You don't mean that you would take me out?'
'Yes, I do, if you are inclined to come and try for work at Albertstown.'
Fulbert, instead of answering, quickened his pace to a walking run, dashed on, nearly upsetting half a dozen people, and was only checked by a collision with a perambulator. Then he stood still till Mr. Audley came up to him, and then again muttered under his breath, 'Go out to Albertstown!'
They walked on a little way, and then the boy said, 'Say it again, please.'
Mr. Audley did say it again, in more detail; and Fulbert this time exclaimed, 'It is the very thing! Thank you, Mr. Audley;' and his face clearing into a frank, open look, he added, 'I'll try to do my best there. I wonder I never thought of it before. I would have worked my way out as a cabin-boy if I had. Where is Lance? Does Felix know?'
There was no sentiment about Fulbert. He jumped at the offer as instinctively as a young swallow would prepare to migrate, seemed to brighten all over, and shake off his dull, defiant mood, and gave no sign of feeling about brother or sister—except that he said he believed Felix would get on better without him; and that he told Lance that they would have splendid fun together when he was big enough to come out and ride a buck-jumper.