But Tom refused to sell his favourite.
“And now,” said the Yankee one evening, “I’m going to sea for three months, and as you’ve nothing particular to do, why, come along. It’ll set you up for life. What say?”
“I accept your hospitality,” said Tom “and thank you very much.”
“Don’t you dare thank me. By thunder, sir, if you thank me I’ll throw you overboard. Barnaby Blunt wants no reward, not even a wordy one. But you’ll come?”
“Like a shot.”
“Spoken like a man and a Britisher. Tip us your flipper. Now, good-night; I’ll go and get ready for the march.”
“Good-night, and may God himself reward you.”
“Amen,” said Barnaby, and next minute he was out of sight.
A week after this Tom was back in Guayaquil, and had bidden his faithful servants a long farewell.
The boy Rooph was disconsolate in the extreme, and shed tears abundantly.