And the wretch displayed his obvious longing, with the cunning light in the little eyes and the grin amid the dyed hair on the wizened face; but with all his faults Ralph Devenish was still something of a gentleman, and, Nan notwithstanding, even more of a man.
"You will never dare to repeat one of them," said he. "If you ever do, and I hear of it, you will get what you yourself suggested just now. That'll do, Jewson; not another word about that."
The old steward accepted his rebuff with aplomb.
"Very well, sir. Of course my feelings ain't like a gentleman's; a gentleman wouldn't expect it. But this I do promise, never to tell anybody if I don't tell you. And now, sir, I should like to tell you, if I may make so bold, what I'd do in your place."
"If it amuses you, by all means."
"It does, sir; but it'd amuse me more if you'd do it, and there's time enough still. I'd take Miss Merridew at her word, and ashore I'd go with the pilot, and to Ballarat by the first coach!"
Ralph sipped his brandy on the settee. It was finished before he spoke.
"I should never make my fortune there," he said.
"You might if you took me with you. I was in Californy in 'forty-nine. And I'd cook for ye," added the steward, his face shining with its least evil light; "I'd cook as not many can in Australia, let alone the diggings. That's what I used to ship as; but it's heart-breaking work at sea."
"If I did make my pile," added Ralph, shrewdly, "it wouldn't alter matters one way or the other."