“Ay, ay, sir; and he aren’t the only one as feels it. I ought never to ha’ left Master Nic’s side; but he put me in my station, and, of course, I had to obey orders.”
“Of course, my lad. Here, we must make the best of it, and hope and pray that the boy will turn up again all right.”
Solly shook his head sadly.
“Ah, don’t do that, my man,” cried Captain Lawrence. “You a sailor, too. There’s life in a mussel, Solly. A man’s never dead with us till he is over the side with a shot at his heels.”
“That’s true, sir,” said the old sailor; “but, you see, I’m afraid. There was some fierce fighting over yonder in the pitch-dark, where the lights waren’t showing. Sticks was a-going awful. If my poor boy got one o’ they cracks on his head and went beneath, there was plenty o’ water to wash him out o’ the pool and down the river.”
“Yes; but hope for the best, man; hope for the best. Remember the bit of blue that comes in the wind’s eye often enough when we’re in the worst part of a gale.”
“Ay, sir, that’s what I do—hope for the best, and that if my poor young master, who was as fine a lad as ever stepped, is done for, I may some day find out who it was that hit that blow, and pay it back.”
“No, Solly,” said Captain Lawrence sternly. “An English sailor does not take revenge in cold blood for what was done in hot. Never! There, I must get off, and in a few days I hope to be back to see my old friend again. Meanwhile, I know he’s in good hands, and that he would not wish to be watched over by any one better than William Solly, his old companion in many a trouble of the past.”
“It’s very kind o’ you to say so, sir,” said Solly humbly.
“I only speak the truth, my man,” said the visitor. “I have seen a great deal, and Captain Revel has told me more, about what a faithful servant you have been to him. Do all you can to comfort him, for he is terribly changed.”