“‘I give you my word of honour, uncle.’
“‘That’ll do,’ he said. ‘Catch hold, and be off. It’s a loan, mind. You bring back a couple of sacks full of nuggets, and pay me again.’
“‘I will, uncle,’ I said, ‘if I live.’
“‘If you live!’ he said, staring at me. ‘Of course you’ll live. I’m seventy, and not near done. You’re not a score. Be off.’
“And I came away and never said a word.”
“But you sent the fifty pounds to your poor old aunt?”
“Why, of course I did; but I shall never pay old ‘Hard Nut with the Sweet Kernel’ his money back. God bless him, though, and I hope he’ll know the reason why before he dies.”
“God bless him! yes,” said the listener, in a deep, low voice that sounded very strange, and as if the speaker could hardly trust himself to speak.
Then they lay together in the darkness and silence for a time, till Abel Wray made an effort and said in his harsh, husky voice:
“There, that’s all. Makes a fellow feel soft. Think it’s midnight yet?”