I saw all that....
And I went to bed; but I did not go to sleep. In the first place, I could not, and, for better reason, my tutor got astir the moment my door was closed. I heard his cautious descent to the dining-room. The man had been waiting to get me out of the way; but I heard him go down, and that right easily, in the fall of his stockinged feet, and in the click of his door-latch, and in the creak of the stair. I cast my clothes off in haste, but 299 lay wide awake in my bed––as who would not?––listening to the ominous murmur of voices from below. My tutor, it seemed, was placid and determined; my uncle was outraged. I heard the old man’s voice rise in a rage, fall to a subdued complaint, patter along in beseeching. It seemed ’twas all to no purpose; my tutor was obdurate, and my uncle yielded to his demands, however unwillingly. There was the mutter of agreement, there was the click of my uncle’s strong-box, there was the clink of gold coin. I listened for the pop of a new cork; but I did not hear it: I heard the jug of spring water exchange hands––no more than that. ’Twas very queer. But I was not concerned with it, after all. Let my uncle and John Cather deal with each other as they would, in any way engaging the clink of gold from my uncle’s strong-box; ’twas for me, unconcerned, to look out of my window, to discover the weather. And this I did; and I found the weather threatening––very dark, with the moon hid by clouds, and blowing up in a way promising a strength of wind not to be disregarded by folk who would put to sea.
The end of this was that John Cather and my uncle came above. My tutor went straightway to his room, with steps that hastened past my door; but my uncle paused, pushed the door cautiously ajar, thrust in his head.
“Is you asleep, Dannie?” says he.
“No, sir. I’m wonderful wide awake.”
“Ah, well!” he whispered, in such a way that I perceived his triumphant glee, though I could not see his 300 face for the darkness of my room; “you might as well turn over an’ go t’ sleep.”
“An’ why, sir?” I asked.
“Like a babe, Dannie,” says he, addressing me with fondness, as though I were a little child again––“jus’ like a babe.”
He walked to my window and looked out to sea.