"All right, father," replied the young man, with a benignant grin; "proceed, but don't be hard upon me; spare my feelings."
"Well now, this is how the land lies," said the old seaman, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands before him. "As Mr. Moor and I, with the stooard and men, are quite sufficient to manage the affairs o' the brig, and as we shall certainly be here for a considerable time to come, I've made up my mind to give you a holiday. You're young, you see, an' foolish, and your mind needs improvin'. In short, you want a good deal o' the poetry knocked out o' you, for it's not like your mother's poetry by any means, so you needn't flatter yourself—not built on the same lines by a long way. Well—where was I?"
"Only got the length of the holiday yet, father."
"Only, indeed. You ungrateful dog! It's a considerable length to get, that, isn't it? Well, I also intend to give you some money, to enable you to move about in this curious archipelago—not much, but enough to keep you from starvation if used with economy, so I recommend you to go into the town, make general inquiries about everything and everywhere, an' settle in your mind what you'll do, for I give you a rovin' commission an' don't want to be bothered with you for some time to come."
"Are you in earnest, father?" asked Nigel, who had become more interested while the captain unfolded his plan.
"Never more in earnest in my life—except, p'raps, when I inquired over twenty years ago whether you was a boy or a gurl."
"Well, now, that is good of you, father. Of course I need not say that I am charmed at the prospect you open up to me. And—and when may I start?"
"At once. Up anchor and away to-night if you choose."
"But—where?"
"Anywhere—everywhere, Java, Sumatra, Borneo—all Malaysia before you where to choose. Now be off, and think over it, for I've got too much to do to waste time on you at present," said the captain, rising, "and, stay—Nigel."