“You are fortunate,” said the other thoughtfully, “but you are a boy, and it is natural at your age to be sanguine and hopeful. I was so, too, when at your age of life. But I will shake off this feeling and do what is necessary. Let me return.”
They rose from their grassy seat and took their way back to Mr. Burton’s shop.
On their way they encountered an old man with snowy beard, half bowed over, clad in rags, and apparently in extreme poverty.
“A few pennies, good gentlemen,” he whined. “Only a few pennies in charity. I am miserably poor.”
The captain drew out a silver coin and put it into the old man’s hand. Tom did the same.
“He looks wretched enough,” said Tom.
“Yes.”
Scarcely were the two a few rods away, than the old beggar lifted his eyes and looked after them.
“So, Signor Captain,” he muttered, “this is your game. I have not followed you for nothing. You are intriguing with that boy to leave us all in the lurch, are you? We shall see.”
The old beggar was Alonzo.