Thus Ned had never been invited to visit his guardian during his holidays, the master of the college, or academy, Dr Heardman, LL.D., M.A., etc., being paid to look after the boy during the holidays. In consequence of these arrangements, Shebourne Academy was the only home that Ned Romer had ever known, and his schoolfellows were his only friends.
Some lads would have felt lonely and have pined under the monotony of such a life; but Ned was not one of the brooding kind. The country all round the academy was beautiful, being in the heart of Devonshire, and within sight of Dartmoor hills. What money he required, in reason, his guardian freely sent, and as Ned had lived here ever since he could remember, his needs were not extravagant, with such Spartan tastes as he had.
Books he had in profusion, for the doctor’s library was at his disposal. He found amusement enough during the vacations in studying botany and reading books of travel and exploration.
When asked by his guardian what vocation he would like to take up in life, during one of that gentleman’s rare visits, Ned had answered promptly—
“I mean to be a traveller.”
His guardian was pleased with this reply; at least, he seemed to be so from the way his foxy face beamed and the manner in which he rubbed his hands together.
“Yes, Ned, I think such a life would suit a bold, strong lad like you exactly. You might go to Australia or Africa, and make a fortune in no time.”
“Oh, I don’t care much about the fortune,” replied Ned, carelessly. “As long as I have enough to live and keep clear of debt, I’ll be satisfied, so that I can do some good and help on civilisation and the glory and power of England.”
“Like the great Cecil Rhodes, eh—the Empire-maker?” said his guardian, slyly.
“That is my ambition, Mr Raymond,” answered Ned, calmly.