I laughed, but persisted, on which he rejoined.
“No, lad, the money’s yours. Never a penny will Jack Brunscombe touch. If when a little ’un yer were any expense, you’ve more than repaid it now you’ve growed up, for you’ve been a mort o’ help to me. But come bo’, let’s to the point. What made yer put that question about the bit o’ money to-night? You’d some reason—so all fair and above board—fire your broadside. I’m prepared. What is it?”
“Why, Brunscombe, I was thinking,” I began, “that if I really had a little money I would like to carry out a plan I have been turning about in my head.”
“And that?”
“Why, to go over to Liverpool or London, and enter the merchant service.”
“You find this here place then, too circumcised for your talents,” he rejoined, with a wink at Katie.
“I certainly think it too circumscribed for a young man beginning life,” I replied. “You, yourself, Brunscombe, did not pass all your existence here, though your native place as mine.”
“Quite right, bo’, quite; and joking apart, I think what you propose is the correct thing to do. So you may go into the town to-morrow, draw out the money, and then up to Liverpool. First of all, my old woman will write yer a list of things necessary for your kit, and you’ve been your own master long enough to know how to lay out the twenty punds, for that’s about the sum it is, judiciously.”
Thus things were arranged quite to my satisfaction, and any of my readers possessed with so eager a desire after adventure as held me captive, will not wonder that I got little sleep that night. I tossed and turned, my brain busy with plans for the future; and no sooner did the faintest glimmer of light show in at the little dormer window in the roof, than I was up, dressed, and taking farewell of the dear old beach, the rugged friendly rocks, and clear silver pools, natural aquaria, bright with the beautiful delicate green ulva latissima and Porphyra laciniata, whose splendid fronds hanging in graceful festoons, formed caves and grottos where lurked the sea anemones or actinias, with their tentacles tipped with rosy red—the more splendid crass, the sly hermit crab in search for periwinkles, and the uraster rubens, or five-fingered fish.