“Never,” said the doctor. “Why, Joe, my boy,” he cried as I stood shrinking from him, ready to defend myself from his remonstrances, “your ideas do you credit. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Then you don’t think it is wrong of me, doctor?” I said, catching his hand.
“No, my boy, I do not,” he said gravely; “but it is a task for strong and earnest men.”
“But I am strong,” I said; “and if I’m not a man I’m in real earnest.”
“I can see that, my lad,” said the doctor, with his brown forehead filling with thoughtful wrinkles; “but have you counted the cost?”
“Cost!” I said. “No. I should get a passage in a coaster and walk all the rest of the way.”
“I mean cost of energy: the risks, the arduous labours?”
“Oh, yes,” I said; “and I sha’n’t mind. Father would have done the same if I was lost.”
“Of course he would, my lad; but would you go alone?”
“Oh, no,” I replied, “I should take a guide.”