“Our task to-morrow, Nic,—to see to the unloading.”
“But will the things be safe there?” said the boy.
“Safe? yes, unless the blacks come down upon us. But I have no fear. Now, Nic, I’m not like you: I haven’t been fed and pampered by the women for hours. I’m starving for a good meal.”
“So am I, father.”
“What, again?” said the doctor, as he reached the door, just as Brookes and Leather carried the lantern into the kitchen, where a meal was spread for them. “Here, my dear, this boy says he’s hungry again.”
“Again, father?” cried Hilda; “why, he has had nothing but a cup of tea!”
“Why? Not well?”
“Oh yes, father, quite,” cried Nic. “I’ve only been asleep.”