"Well, you poor mouse-heart, stay at home, then, and tie yourself to your mamma's apron-strings!" was the reply. "Do as you please; but, I tell you,—and I trust the secret to you, and hope you won't blow it,—I have made up my mind to go to sea."
"Will you run away?"
"Indeed I will."
"When?"
"Why should I tell you, if you will not go with me?"
"Well, I want to be off with you, but how can I?"
"Easy enough. But I will see you to-morrow night, and we will talk it over. It is time to go home."
"I must see Dick Vanderpool, and find out where the text was, so that I can tell the old folks."