In the background close to the window stood Barney, with all his old training manifest in his attitude—that of a petty officer in charge of a prisoner; for that was the character which his son occupied just then in his eyes. His gardening was, for the time being, forgotten, and he felt that he was in the presence of his commanding officer, not of the master whom he served.
The painful silence was broken by Pan, to whom all this was awe-inspiring. For the moment he forgot all about ropes’-ends, and worked himself up into the belief that he would be sentenced to some terrible punishment. He fidgeted about, breathed hard, looked appealingly from the captain to the admiral and back again, and at last, unable to contain himself longer, he burst forth into a long and piteous howl, dropping down upon his knees, and from that attitude would have thrown himself prone, had not Barney tightened his hold upon his collar and shaken him up into a kneeling position again.
“Stow that!” he growled, as the admiral seized the port wine decanter as if to throw at the boy, but altered his mind and poured himself out a glass instead.
Then the terrible silence began again, and lasted till the captain turned to his brother. But he did not speak, and after a few moments longer Sir Thomas exclaimed—
“You young dog! spent all the money you got out of me, and now you’ve sneaked back.”
“I haven’t, uncle,” cried Syd, indignantly. “I didn’t take it. It’s on the table in my room.”
This seemed to unlock Captain Belton’s lips.
“Well, sir, now you have come back, what do you want?” he said.
“I’ve told you, father. I’ve been wrong, and want you to forgive me.”
“No, sir: you deserted; and now you come crawling back and want to go on as before. Can’t trust you again. Go and be a doctor.”