"Why, what maggot has bit you, nephew?" says he in amaze. "You have shown no disposition to go roaming since we quitted the Oronoque; nay, it seemed to me that your sole joy was to be with us, and that you could not rest out of sight of niece Biddy."
That was indeed true, but I felt I must indulge this delight no longer, but break away from that perilous, passionate attachment while I had the manhood to obey the advice of my conscience. But I could not explain this to my uncle, and so hung my head in silence, being as sore at heart as any man could be.
"Do you feel it is your duty, Benet?" says my uncle tenderly, after a pause; seeing, as I take it, how matters stood.
I nodded my head, not daring to speak, lest my strength should give way under the strain of anguish that I felt in thinking I must never again see my dear lady.
"In that case, dear fellow," says the kind-hearted old gentleman, getting up and laying his hand on my neck, "God forbid I should balk your design. You shall have a ship, and means for your venture, to boot, as being but a little out of that great store of gold we have taken from the pirates. May the Lord prosper you in all you undertake, as doubtless he will, being just as well as merciful."
"We will say naught of this to my Lady Biddy, uncle," says I, "for I know not how to explain my sudden turn of intention to her satisfaction."
"As you will, nephew," says he—"as you will."
Then, taking my friend Matthew Pennyfarden aside, I asked him if he would come with me and share my fortunes.
"Lord love you, master," says he, "that will I with all my heart, be it anywhere in the world."
So we secretly fitted out a ship, and got all ready for the venture I had in my mind; and there was nothing left to do but to bid my dear lady farewell, which was the thing I dreaded woefully, yet saw no way of avoiding. However, the night before I designed to set sail, my uncle undertook to break the news to my lady lightly, as if 'twere a sudden whimsey that possessed me.