"There's no must in it, youngster. I'm bound for Hong Kong and Canton, and, further, I don't keep any idlers on board. If ye go with me ye must look lively. Yer mate, Tim, yonder, is already worth his salt. He tells me ye're a cadet."
"I wanted to be; my eyes were wrong, the doctor said."
"Then ye're fond of the sea? Now, here's my idea: I'll keep ye, if ye like, aboard, and, please Goodness, bring ye home. If not, ye must telegraph home from Gib, and I must send ye back in some liner, somehow. Make up yer mind, it can't take long."
"I suppose you think me a fool?" I exclaimed testily.
"I do not," he replied, with the emphasis of the native Irishman; "but maybe I will when I hear yer opinion."
"Then, I'll stay," I replied, feeling rather undecided nevertheless. "But what will they think at home? My mother will fret."
"Well, I'm sorry for yer mother, but I think she'll survive. I know something about ye from the boy forward. Now, tell me the truth about yerself. Who are ye, anyhow?"
I told him the truth. He listened quietly, nodding at intervals, and finally said—
"All right. Now, my lad, listen to me. I'll be the making of ye, and yer mother won't know ye when ye go back, eh?"
I hardly fancied that this would be an advantage for my parents, but I said nothing, and the captain continued—