When the first greetings were over, and Jacob had expressed his delight at the thorough restoration of his master’s health, Frank turned to his faithful servant and said,—
“Well, Jacob, you’ve brought me good news, as you’ve come back safe, and a rich man; and, indeed, if you’d only brought yourself it would have been good news to me. But I am not quite so sure that you’ll think my news good news, when you hear what I have to tell you.”
A cloud gathered on Jacob’s face, as he said tremblingly,—
“Eh, surely, mayster, you—you—you’ve not been—”
“Oh, no, no,” laughed Frank; “set your mind at rest, Jacob; I’m a thorough teetotaller now, and have been ever since you left.”
“And mean to be so still, I hope, mayster.”
“I hope so,” was the reply. “But you have not heard my news, Jacob. I’m thinking of going home; not home to Adelaide, but back across the sea again—home to England.”
“Indeed, Mayster Frank. Well, I’m not so sorry to hear it.”
“Are you not?” said his master, with a look of disappointment. “I thought you might have been. At any rate, I shall be sorry to lose you, Jacob, for you’ve been more like a brother than a servant to me; though, it’s true, you’ll not be much of a sufferer by losing me.”
“Ay, but, Mayster Frank, there’s no reason why either on us should lose t’other. I haven’t forgotten what you did for me on board ship; and I’ll serve ye still here or in the old country, till you can find one as’ll suit you better.”