“Then, you spoke?”
“I’ll swear to that much,” returned Bob, resuming his seat like one who had settled the whole affair to his entire satisfaction; “and now, friend Harris, if you are ready to lay bare your mind, I’m just as ready to look at it.”
Wilder did not appear to be quite as well content with the explanation as his companion, but he drew a chair, and prepared to open his subject.
“I am not to tell you, friend, after what you have heard and seen, that I have no very strong desire that the lady with whom we have both spoken this morning, and her companion, should, sail in the ‘Royal Caroline.’ I suppose it is enough for our purposes that you should know the fact; the reason why I prefer they should remain where they are, can be of no moment as to the duty you are to undertake.”
“You need not tell an old seaman how to gather in the slack of a running idea!” cried Bob, chuckling and winking at his companion in a way that displeased the latter by its familiarity; “I have not lived fifty years on blue water, to mistake it for the skies.”
“You then fancy, sir, that my motive is no secret to you?”
“It needs no spy-glass to see, that, while the old people say, ‘Go,’ the young people would like to stay where they are.”
“You do both of the young people much injustice then; for, until yesterday, I never laid eyes on the person you mean.”
“Ah! I see how it is; the owners of the ‘Caroline’ have not been so civil as they ought, and you are paying them a small debt of thanks!”
“That is possibly a means of retaliation that might suit your taste,” said Wilder, gravely; “but which is not much in accordance with mine. The whole of the parties are utter strangers to me.”