“Better, perhaps, Sir Miles,” replied the other, with a slight smile. “Wiser, at least, I doubt not he will be; for in good truth, it was a very boyish, and a very foolish risk to run.”
The old man, for the first time, looked at the speaker steadfastly, and was struck by the singular expression of his countenance—that strange mixture of impassive self-confident composure, and half-scornful audacity, which I have mentioned as being his most striking characteristics. On the preceding evening, Sir Miles had been so much engrossed by the anxiety he felt about his son, and subsequently by the feelings called forth in his inmost heart by the discovery of an old comrade in the person of William Allan, that in fact he had paid little attention to either of the other personages present.
He had observed, indeed, that there were a fair young girl and a powerfully framed youth present; he had even addressed a few words casually to both of them, but they had left no impression on his mind, and he had not even considered who or what they were likely to be.
Now, however, when he was composed and relieved of fear for his son’s life, he was struck, as I have said, by the expression and features of the young man, and began to consider who he could be; for there was no such similarity, whether of feature, expression, voice, air or gesture, between him and William Allan, as is wont to exist between son and sire.
After a moment’s pause, however, the old cavalier replied, not altogether pleased apparently by the tone of the last remark.
“It was a very bold and manly risk, it appears to me,” he said, “and if rash, can hardly be called boyish; and you, I should think,” he added, “would be the last to blame bold actions. You look like any thing but one who should recommend cold counsels, or be slack either to dare or do. I fancy you have seen stirring times somewhere, and been among daring deeds yourself.”
“So many times, Sir Miles,” replied the young man, modestly, “that I have learned how absurd it is to seek such occasions without cause. There be necessary risks enough in life, and man has calls enough, and those unavoidable, on his courage, without going out of his way to seek them, or throwing any energy or boldness unprofitably to the winds. At least so I have found it in the little I have seen of human life and action.”
“Ha! you speak well,” said Sir Miles, looking even more thoughtfully than before at the marked and somewhat weatherbeaten features of the young man. “And where have you met with perils so rife, and learned so truly the need of disciplining natural energies and valor.”
“On the high seas, Sir Miles, of which I have been a follower from a boy.”
“Indeed! are you such a voyager! and where, I pray you, have you served?”