Sir Everard and Uncle Charlie threw themselves down on the grass in the shade, and the children, seating themselves by their father, begged for a story.
"Sailors are the men for stories," was his answer; "you had better ask your uncle."
Uncle Charlie proved a charming story teller. He told them of sharks and crocodiles, of boar-hunting, and of wonderful adventures by land and sea.
The children hung on his every word.
The shadows grew long, and the sun began to sink over the cornfields, and still they were absorbed in listening, and their father in watching their sparkling eyes and varying countenances.
"Come," said Sir Everard at last, jumping up, "no more stories, or we shall be here all night. It is past six, and Virginie will be wondering what has become of us."
"Oh!" said Humphrey, drawing a long breath, as he descended from those heights of wonder to the trifling details of everyday life, recalled by the mention of Virginie, "how delicious it has been! I hope, father, you will let me be a sailor when I grow up?"
"Well, I don't think that will exactly be your vocation," answered Sir Everard; "but there is plenty of time before you."
"Me, too," said little Miles; "I want to be a sailor too."
"You, my darling," said Sir Everard, fondly; "no, not you; I couldn't spare you my sweet little fellow."