“Hah! From one who took you to his heart when you were a little orphan child, just when your widowed mother had closed her eyes for ever on this weary world, and swore to treat you as if you were his own!”
“Yes, uncle.”
“And why?”
“Because you are tired of me, uncle, and don’t trust me—and are going to send me away.”
“Hah! You are not going to try and be taken as a soldier?”
“No, uncle.”
“Hah! What then? Going to seek your fortune?”
“No, uncle. I’m going to sea.”
Perhaps that hah! that ejaculation, was louder than the other words—perhaps Aleck Donne had not been dreaming—perhaps it was all real!
At any rate the sleeper had awakened and with his eyes able to open a little more, and through the two narrow slits he was gazing at the stern, sorrowful face, lit up by one candle, seated there within a yard of the pillow.