“You are but a boy, Master Keene, but you’ve no fool’s head on your shoulders.”
“I hope not,” replied I; “but here we are at the boat.”
“Yes; and, as I live, here’s Peggy Pearson. Well, Peggy, how did you like your cruise with Master Keene?”
“If I ever go on another, I hope he will be my companion. Master Keene, will you allow me to go on board with you to see my husband?”
“Oh, yes, Peggy,” replied Cross; “the first lieutenant would not refuse you after what has happened, nor Captain Delmar either, stiff as he is: for, although he never shows it, he don’t want feeling. Jim will be glad to see you, Peggy; you haven’t an idea how he took on, when he heard of your loss. He borrowed a pocket-handkerchief from the corporal of marines.”
“I suspect he’d rather borrow a bottle of rum from the purser,” replied Peggy.
“Recollect, Peggy,” said I, holding up my finger.
“Mr Keene, I do recollect; I pledge you my word that I have not tasted a drop of spirits since we parted—and that with a sovereign in my pocket.”
“Well, only keep to it—that’s all.”
“I will, indeed, Mr Keene; and, what’s more, I shall love you as long as I live.”