“Yes, my boy, quite alone, except that I shall engage one or two native servants at the places where I stay, and perhaps I shall buy a boat for my own special use to cruise from island to island. Why, what are you sighing about, boy?”
“I was thinking about your going out there, uncle, all alone.”
“Well, my boy, do you suppose I shall be frightened?”
“No, uncle, of course not; but won’t you be dull?”
“I shall be too busy to be dull, my boy. The only likely time for me to be dull is of an evening, and then I shall go to sleep.”
He went on with his work until it grew dark, and then at his request I lit the lamp, placed it down close to his writing, and remained standing there by his elbow wanting to speak but not daring to do so, till he suddenly turned round and looked me in the face.
“Why, Nat, my boy, what’s the matter? Are you unwell?”
“No, uncle,” I said slowly.
“What then? Is anything wrong?”
“I—I was thinking about when you are gone, uncle.”