Nic went off at a trot along the steep track which led down to the shore, and in due time met the hale, vigorous, grey-haired officer striding uphill in a way which made Nic feel envious on his father’s behalf.
“Well, Nic, my boy,” cried the visitor, “how’s the dad? Well? That’s right. So are you,” he continued, gazing searchingly at the lad with his keen, steely-grey eyes. “Grown ever so much since I saw you last. Ah, boy, it’s a pity you didn’t come to sea!”
Then he went on chatting about being just come upon the Plymouth station training men for the king’s ships, and how he hoped to see a good deal now of his old friend and his son.
The meeting between the brother-officers was boisterous, but there was something almost pathetic in the warmth with which they grasped hands, for they had first met in the same ship as middies, and many a time during Captain Lawrence’s visits Nic had sat and listened to their recollections of the dangers they had gone through and their boyish pranks.
William Solly was in the porch ready to salute the visitor, and to look with pride at the fine, manly old officer’s greeting. He made a point, too, of stopping in the room to wait table, carefully supplying all wants, and smiling with pleasure as he saw how the pleasant meal was enjoyed by the guest.
“We were lying off the river late last night, but I wouldn’t disturb you,” he said. “I made up my mind, though, to come to breakfast. Hah! What delicious fried salmon!”
“Hur–r–ur!” growled Captain Revel, and Solly cocked his eye knowingly at Nic.
“Hallo! What’s the matter?” cried the visitor.
“The salmon—the salmon,” growled Captain Revel, frowning and tapping the table.
“De-licious, man! Have some?—Here, Solly, hand the dish to your master.”