"Do you think you'd like to stay here, then?" Mr. Paterson asked, with a kindly twinkle in his eye. "I dare say it could be managed. One of these well-to-do merchants might be glad to take you as an apprentice."
Donald smiled and shook his head. There was indeed something attractive in the idea, but he did not feel free to entertain it.
"Wad ye be thinkin' of staying yer ain sel'?" he inquired in turn.
"Oh, no, Donald," replied Mr. Paterson with a deep sigh. "I must return to Scotland to give an account of my stewardship."
"Then if ye're going back, I'm going wi' ye," responded the lad in a tone of absolute decision; and Mr. Paterson, patting him affectionately on the shoulder, said in a voice whose unwonted tremor showed how strongly he felt—
"You're a good boy, Donald, leal and true, and I believe that in the providence of God you will come to greatness yet."
The survivors of the unfortunate Darien expedition were so kindly treated at New York that quite a number of them were glad to settle permanently in the prosperous colony; but Mr. Paterson impatiently awaited the opportunity to get back to Scotland.
During the delay Donalblane had an adventure that caused him to retain a vivid remembrance of the place for the remainder of his life. His restless, inquiring spirit kept him constantly on the move, and one fine day he had roamed away up toward the north end of the island, and so overstayed his time that night had fallen ere he reached the outskirts of the city.
There were no street lights in those days, and, save where a friendly gleam came from the window or open door of a house, the streets were dark as pitch; hence there were many good chances for highwaymen to practise their evil profession, which they were not slow to seize upon.
Donalblane had just got well into the city, when, as he passed through a dark, narrow street, he heard a cry for help, followed by the sounds of a violent struggle. At once the impulse to render aid took possession of him, and he darted in the direction whence the sounds came, grasping tightly his pistol, which he always carried with him. A short run brought him to where three persons were struggling together, one crying out for help, while the other two strove to smother his cries and knock him senseless with their bludgeons.