‘I know that I was a sheet in the wind’s eye, sir, once—once only, since I reached this place,’ retorted the Admiral. ‘And even then I was fit for any drawing-room. I should like you to tell me how many fathers, lay and clerical, go upstairs every day with a face like a lobster and cod’s eyes—and are dull, upon the back of it—not even mirth for the money! No, if that’s what she runs for, all I say is, let her run.’
‘You see,’ Dick tried it again, ‘she has fancies—’
‘Confound her fancies!’ cried Van Tromp. ‘I used her kindly; she had her own way; I was her father. Besides I had taken quite a liking to the girl, and meant to stay with her for good. But I tell you what it is, Dick, since she has trifled with you—Oh, yes, she did though!—and since her old papa’s not good enough for her—the devil take her, say I.’
‘You will be kind to her at least?’ said Dick.
‘I never was unkind to a living soul,’ replied the Admiral. ‘Firm I can be, but not unkind.’
‘Well,’ said Dick, offering his hand, ‘God bless you, and farewell.’
The Admiral swore by all his gods he should not go. ‘Dick,’ he said, ‘You are a selfish dog; you forget your old Admiral. You wouldn’t leave him alone, would you?’
It was useless to remind him that the house was not his to dispose of, that being a class of considerations to which his intelligence was closed; so Dick tore himself off by force, and, shouting a good-bye, made off along the lane to Thymebury.
CHAPTER IX—IN WHICH THE LIBERAL EDITOR RE-APPEARS AS ‘DEUS EX MACHINA’
It was perhaps a week later, as old Mr. Naseby sat brooding in his study, that there was shown in upon him, on urgent business, a little hectic gentleman shabbily attired.