“Shall we ever, ever see each other again, Adriano?” I said.
“Quien sabe? de world is not wide to de sailor. We meet—perhaps.—I go home now, I hope. I will see my government—I will return here or to Cardeef—a free man. A dios. A dios.”
This was a busy day with auntie, and a busy day for us too. We saw the inside of many a shipping office before evening, and I was proud to learn that my Aunt Serapheema was so well known and so highly respected by every one, but I was not aware then that she was owner of a great many shipping shares.
I remember what one white-haired old gentleman said to her.
“The boys are big enough for their years, and look strong and well, but are they not just a little too young?”
“Their grandfather,” said auntie, proudly, “went to sea when barely ten.”
“I know your father was an exceptional youngster, and no man could have died more highly respected. No man.”
“Let me see now,” said auntie, speaking more to herself than to Mr Claremont, “the Salamander belongs to only a few shareholders.”
“Belongs mostly to you, Miss Domville.”
“And the captain is a gentleman.”