“I? Oh no, sir.”
“And you, Morny, my son?”
“I, my father? They should not go away if I could stop it.”
“You hear, doctor? Is not this strange after what we have been saying in the cabin. I tell you again, before long I will be quite open with you about the object of my voyage. At present I ask you not to press me.”
“I have told you,” said the doctor, smiling, “that I will not. I have told you also that my object for the short time that I shall stay down here in the south is to keep close inshore, while you tell me that you wish to be able to sail right out to sea, and free to carry out your project, whatever it may be.”
“Yes, yes, and I have told you too that you could be of the greatest service to me by following close at hand, and that I should always be most grateful if without injury to your own cruise you would keep in company with me for the present.”
“Ready to help in case of further emergencies?”
“No,” cried the Count warmly; “my ideas were not so selfish as that. But tell me this—is it urgent that we should part company now? I mean, would you suffer loss, or would your own researches be injured by keeping in company with us for say another month?”
“No–o,” said the doctor carelessly; “I am just as likely to make discoveries far out to sea as close inshore.”
“Then stay with us for the present. I ask it as a friend, while I guarantee that you shall not suffer by what you do for me.”