“That’s it,” said Pete sturdily.
“Well,” said Solly, “I aren’t jealous, for you did the right thing by the young master; so let’s shake hands.”
This was solemnly done, and Solly went on:
“As good a skipper as ever stepped a deck, and as fine a boy as ever breathed. Pete, messmet, you’ve dropped into a snug thing.”
“Which that zame I know,” said Pete gruffly.
“But you saved Master Nic’s life, and the skipper’s too, by bringing the young master back; and I’m glad you’re going to stay. So suppose we shakes hands agen?”
They did, as if they meant it, too.
They did mean it, and somehow a great attachment sprang up between those two men, while as time rolled on Nic smiled more than once on meeting them consulting together about matters connected with the estate, and made Solly wince.
At last, after a good deal of hesitation, Solly turned upon his young master.
“Beg pardon, sir,” he said; “speaking respeckful like—”