We were both too much shocked at first by this announcement to be able to express our sympathy; but, on reflection, I expressed my conviction that there was no cause for serious alarm; that, while there was life, there was hope; and that no doubt he would, ere long, succeed in gaining some intelligence which would lead to the discovery of the orphan's retreat. I told him I would write to some friends in the neighbourhood of Kelso, who would, I was sure, be happy to exert themselves in making the necessary inquiries; and that I was able and willing to accompany him as soon as he thought proper, to assist him in his search. He was much gratified by the offer of my services, which he seemed inclined to avail himself of immediately.
"No, no, my friend," said I; "we have too lately found you, to part with you so easily. You must stay with us a few days at least, until I receive answers from Kelso, and afterwards, when we have succeeded in the object of our search, make this house your home till you have one of your own."
At first he seemed rather impatient at the delay; but gradually became more tranquillised and cheerful. He gratefully accepted my offer of extended hospitality, and pleased us by the frankness with which he seemed immediately to take us at our word, and to feel himself at home. We were both delighted with him; his manners were as pleasing as his conversation was entertaining. On my requesting him to favour us with an account of his adventures since we parted, he replied, "No one has a better claim than yourself, my dear sir, to be informed of the progress of an adventure of which you witnessed and cheered the commencement; but I feel an unwillingness to commence a story, the hero of which is the narrator, who, to do justice to it, must speak more of himself than is either seemly or agreeable."
"Oh," said I, "do not allow your modesty to stand in the way of our enjoyment. Speak fully and freely, in the consciousness that you are talking to friends, who will be pleased with the narration of the most trifling incidents connected with one in whose fate they have always felt the warmest interest."
He bowed, and without further preface commenced as follows:—"After I left you, I made the best of my way to London, and from thence to Portsmouth, where I volunteered on board the Dareall frigate, fitting out for the Cape station. I was asked if I wanted to ship as an able or ordinary seaman, and replied that I had never been at sea, but that I was active and willing. The lieutenant seemed pleased with my appearance and with my answer. 'You're just the lad for us, then,' said he; 'if you're active and willing, we'll soon make you able. I like the cut of your jib, my lad; and, if you perform as well as you promise, I've no doubt you'll make a smart fellow yet. Here, Telford,' said he to a boatswain's mate standing near, 'I give this youngster into your charge; make a man of him.'
"'Ay, ay, sir. Come along, young blowhard,' said he, 'as the first leaftennan has trusted your edicashun to me, we must saw wood at once, and see what we can make of that block of yourn. Can you handle a marlinspike?'
"'No.'
"'Can you reef or steer, or heave the lead?'
"'No.'
"'Then what the devil can you do?'