"You have never done me an evil turn—you have done me nothing but good—since you were a little child. Heaven bless you, Mary!"
"Now, father," said Henry, "I suppose you have no objection to make your escape?"
"No need to raise that question, lad," said Gascoyne, with a perplexed smile. "I am not quite clear as to what my duty is, now that I am free to go back again and give myself up."
"Go back!—free!" exclaimed John Bumpus, in a tone of withering sarcasm. "So, Mister Gascoyne, ye've got sich an uncommon cargo o' conceit in ye yet, that you actually think ye could go back without so much as saying, By your leave!"
While Jo was speaking, he bared to the shoulder an arm that was the reverse of infantine, and, holding it up, said, slowly:
"I've often had a sort o' desire, d'ye see, to try whether this bit of a limb or the one that's round Mrs. Stuart's waist is the strongest. Now, if you have any desire to settle this question, just try to put, to shove, this boat's head up into the wind—that's all!"
This was said so emphatically by the pugnacious Bumpus that his companions laughed, and Corrie cheered in admiration.
"You see," observed Henry, "you need not give yourself any concern as to this point; you have no option in the matter."
"No, not a bit o' poption in it wotiver; though wot that means I ain't rightly sure," said Dick Price.
"Perhaps I ought to exercise my parental authority over you, Henry," said Gascoyne, "and command you to steer back to Sandy Cove."