“That’s the matter,” said the sailor, giving his head a side nod in the direction of Sir Cheltnam, who was crossing the lawn.
“Humph! Burwood? You think so?”
“He comes here a good deal, and I can’t help being fidgety. It’s the going away, you see. Can you help me?”
“No,” said Neil. “You must help yourself. Have you spoken to my father?”
“No.”
“Why not? ‘Faint heart never won fair lady,’ boy. Go and speak to him like a man.”
“All very well for an argumentative, scientific fellow like you. I can’t talk; you can.”
“Nonsense!”
“I know. I’m only a quiet, thoughtful sailor, and I tell you frankly, old fellow, I felt so miserable one day about your sister that I thought the best way out of it all would be to go and drown myself.”
“And did you?”