“Only let me get hold of him then.”
“If you touch him when he does, I’ll tell my father and Sir Thomas you ill-use him.”
“What a shame! Master Syd, you shouldn’t. But you do think he’ll come back, sir?”
“Why, of course.”
“That’s right. I want him to go along o’ you.”
“Along with me?”
“Of course. I heared the skipper was going to take you up to town to-morrow to see your new captain.”
“Oh!” ejaculated Syd; and he turned sharp round and ran into the house, where he was soon after seated at table with his uncle and father, feeling that the servants were watching him, and expecting every moment to hear some allusion to the next day’s journey.
But though no word of the kind was said, Syd cracked no walnuts that night, but sat gloomily over the dessert till his uncle filled his glass, called upon him to pass the port to his father, and then in a loud voice said—
“Here’s health and success to Sydney Belton—middy, master’s mate, lieutenant, commander, post—captain, admiral.”