"Tommy? What Tommy? I remember lots of Tommies;" he said, with a pleasant smile still on his face, although it was so gray and wasted; "there was Tommy, the cook's mate on board the Saucy Lass, and Tommy the cabin-boy, in the Erysipelas, and Tommy the cheating old nigger at Rio, and Tommy that had the dodge for catching flying fish, and Tommy——"

"No, sir, no; your own nephew Tommy. Tommy Upmore, that used to be a little boy at the soap-works, when you came back from sea, and you tossed him through the ceiling, and his head stuck fast. But you are not to talk; you must only think about it."

He obeyed me, like a child, looking at me now and then, as if to refresh his memory, while I held the tea-cup to his lips, and put some buttered toast into his mouth, between whiles. And the great jaws, that used to lift a kitchen-table, could scarcely crush the soft toast, without the tea to help them.

"Mother will come in, and sit with you now," I said, when he had eaten as much as he could manage; "and at eleven o'clock, you will have a bowl of soup, and a glass of port wine; and after that, you go to sleep. We are not going to bother you with any doctor, at least, until the afternoon. And then perhaps Dr. Flebotham, a very clever man, who almost saved my dear father's life, will look in, to have a little chat with you."

"No, Tommy, no," he answered, looking at me steadily, as if his breakfast had supported him; "'twould only be running up a bill for nothing, and your mother has paid a deal too much for me already. But she shall have it all back again, my boy, and a pretty penny on the top of it, if you can keep a secret. I can call you to mind, pretty clearly now; though not a bit like what you used to be, except for the swab on the top of your head. Can you keep a secret, Tommy boy?"

"Sir," I replied, with my eyes upon his, and my countenance full of decision; "it is the very thing that I have always been most famous for, of all the many things that I can do."

In spite of this very strong assurance, he seemed to be doubtful, as if I had said too much.

"How can you be famous for it," he asked, perhaps with some reason, "unless you are accustomed to brag about them? But 'tis Hobson's choice with me, Tommy, between you and your mother. And the youngest lad is safer than the very oldest woman. Get your dear mother to go upon an errand,—the longer the better,—when I am at my best, about noon of the day; and then get me a pipe, to improve my breath; and you shall know what there is, so far as I can fetch my wind to tell it. I remember all about you, my lad, now."

I put my fingers to my lips, to convince him what an enemy I was to excess of conversation; and I saw that he was pleased, and it helped to satisfy him, that there could be no mistake in trusting me. And the way in which I managed to get my mother off the premises, was enough to establish my repute in this way. For I told her what was true, that after all the many years Mrs. Windsor, and she, had been such hearty and warm friends, never falling out—except once for three years, upon the question whether when you sew a button on a shirt, the thread should be wound round the stitches that go through it, before fastening off, or whether (as my mother said) that does more harm than good—after all this staunch and uninterrupted love, it would seem a very heartless thing on her side, if she failed to set off, at the first hour allowed by good breeding for call (which in Maiden Lane was always eleven o'clock, except upon a washing-day), and congratulate her cordially, and find out everything about the engagement of Polly to Bill Chumps.