Tears came to his eyes at that—a most feeling old rogue!
“And where is't for thee, Paul?” he asked.
“Where is't for yourself ought to be of more importance to you, Father Hamilton.”
“No, no,” he cried, “it matters little about me, but surely for you it cannot be Galbanon?”
“Indeed, and it is no less.”
“Then, Paul,” he said firmly, “we must break out, and that without loss of time.”
“Is it in the plural this time?” I asked him.
He affected an indifference, but at the last consented to share the whole of the enterprise.