"Well, drink your wine-and-water; remain quiet in the meantime. You may keep all your night watches below if you like, and, till you regain your strength, content yourself with exercise by day—a Dutchman's promenade, three steps and overboard, eh?"
There was a pause, during which Morley sighed deeply.
"Cheer up, Morley," said jolly Tom Bartelot; "look firmly ahead, and boldly face the little spray and black scud of misfortune. Pursue your present way contented for some time at least, with confidence and hope, and never look astern. It is no use, as nothing ever comes that way, either for good or for evil. It would be a poor love that won't outlast a sea voyage, however long it might be, and if Miss Basset forgets you——"
"Forgets me—agony! Tom, she may be made to believe that I have deserted her."
"Impossible!"
"That I have been murdered, then!"
"Hawkshaw would not tell upon himself, surely?"
"That I fell over the cliff and was drowned!"
"Ah—that would be a likely tale enough."
"I know not what specious tale the villain may form to deceive Ethel and her father," continued Morley, impetuously.