“Yes, sir; and I will be the one to go or to stay, whichever you shall decide. And pray think of your own ease and health, my dear sir, before you do decide,” answered Hammond.
“You are a very good fellow, Dick, a very good fellow. But I believe reason and judgment must settle the matter. I will remain here to look after my nephew. He will not be likely to quarrel with me when he sees me, as he might with you if he should find you by his side when he comes to himself. And, besides, I think this quiet, pretty seaside town will agree with me after the hurly-burly of London. And lastly and mostly—it is you who ought to go back to town for your wife’s sake.”
“All right, my dear sir; it shall be as you please. I confess I like this arrangement best; but if you had said, ‘Dick, go and I will stay,’ or ‘Dick, stay and I will go,’ I should have obeyed you without a moment’s hesitation, as a soldier obeys his commanding officer.”
“I know you would, my boy, therefore it behooves me to consider your interests before I make a decision.”
“And now let us see about the time of starting, I must return in the yacht, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Then it will depend upon the tide. I had better go down, and see the master.”
“Yes, I think you had.”
Dick Hammond took his hat and went down to the yacht.
Captain Wallace was not on board when Mr. Hammond reached the deck. The captain was taking a holiday by walking through the town, and probably solacing himself with a pipe and a bottle of brandy at some favorite resort where the old mariner was well known.