“Yes, Ned,” said Jack moodily; “we’re going abroad.”
“Well, sir, I’d thank you kindly if you’d speak a word to master for me.”
“What, about a character? There is no need, Ned; you will stay here till we come back—if ever we do,” he added bitterly.
“Oh, you’ll come back right enough, sir. But don’t you see that’s just what I don’t want, unless I can come back too.”
“What do you mean, Ned? Can’t you see that you are worrying me dreadfully?”
“I am sorry, sir, for if there’s a thing I can’t abear, it’s being talked to when I’ve got one o’ them stinging ’eadaches. But I keep on explaining to you, sir. Don’t you see? I want you to speak a word to Sir John about taking me with you.”
“You!” cried Jack. “You want to go with us round the world?”
“Now, Master Jack,” cried the man reproachfully, “would you like to spend all your days cleaning knives and boots and shoes, when it wasn’t plate and waiting at table?”
“No, of course not; but you must be mad to want to do such a thing as go upon this dreadful journey.”
“Dreadful journey! My word of honour, Master Jack, you talking like that!” cried the man. “You talking like that!” he repeated. “A young gent like you! Well, I’m about stunned. Do you know it would be about the greatest treat a body could have?”