"Indeed!" the gentleman said, scrutinizing him closely. "I see you look sunburned and weather-beaten now that I look at you; but somehow I should not have put you down as a sailor."
"Well, I am not exactly a sailor; though I may say I have worked as one before the mast both out and home. That was my first experience; and I suppose one takes longer than that to get the regular nautical manner."
"Before the mast, were you? Then I suppose you have been getting into some scrape at home, young sir, and run away; for, from your appearance, you would hardly have been before the mast otherwise. Boys never know what is good for them. But I suppose after your experience you will be inclined to put up with any disagreeables you may have at home rather than try running away again?"
"You are mistaken!" Ralph said with a laugh. "I did not run away. I was run away with!"
"Kidnapped!" the gentleman said in surprise. "I know that merchantmen have often difficulty in getting hands owing to the need of men for the navy, but I did not know that they had taken to press-gangs on their own account."
"No, I don't know that they have come to that," Ralph replied. "The fact is, sir, I was out fishing a few miles off Dover, when the smack I was in was run down in the dark by a French privateer. I was hauled on board, and as she was bound for the West Indies I had to make the voyage whether I liked it or not."
"How long ago is it that you were run down?"
"About five months," Ralph replied.
"Why, you are not the son of Mrs. Conway of Dover, are you?"
"Yes, I am, sir. Do you know her, and can you tell me how she is?" Ralph asked eagerly.