“Do you understand what your son says?” cried Brazier.
“Si! All he say. Giovanni want go bad, very much bad.”
“I thought so,” said Brazier. Then turning to the lad, “Do you know that we may be months away?”
“Yes, I know,” said the lad eagerly. “Father says it would— Please take me, Signore Brazier. I will be so useful, and I can fish, and cook, and light fires.”
“And lay the blame on your father, eh? He wants you to go?”
“He says I may, signore—I mean sir. He promised me that he would ask you.”
“I understand,” said Brazier; “but, my good lad, do you know that we shall have to rough it very much?”
“Bah!” exclaimed the boy. “You will have the boat, and Shaddy, and the four Indian rowers. The country is paradise. It will be a holiday, a delight.”
“And the insects, the wild beasts, the dangers of disease?”
“What of them? We shall be on the rivers, and I have been on rivers half my life. Pray take me, signore.”