“I am telling the truth, sir: I wouldn’t lie about it.”
“I think it is a bad plan to do so,” added the vice-principal. “Then you were coming on board, were you?”
“Yes, sir: I wanted to see you, and own up.”
“Oh! that was your plan, was it?” laughed Mr. Pelham, amused at the pickle into which the rascal was putting himself.
“Yes, sir: I came from Valencia on purpose to give myself up to you. I’m sorry I ran away. I got sick of it in a day or two.”
“This was after Lingall left you, I suppose.”
“Yes, sir; but I was sorry for it before he left. We were almost murdered in the felucca; and I had a hard time of it.”
“And this made you penitent.”
“Yes, sir. I shall never run away again as long as I live.”
“I hope you will not. And you came all the way across Spain and Portugal to give yourself up to me,” added Mr. Pelham. “You were so very anxious to surrender to me, that you were not content to stay a single night at the hotel with Mr. Lowington, who is my superior.”