“Well, that is what I want us to consider carefully,” Emmie said in a quiet business-like tone. “Is he too old? He is fifty-nine. That of course would be too old for any one else; but then he is not like other men.”
Instinctively they both looked upward to the terrace. Anthony, after stooping over the box, was standing at his fullest height and stretching his arms. He stooped a little even now, as if the weight of his big shoulders was not quite so easy to carry as it had once been; but his head and neck were magnificent, with the sunlight on the thick grey hair, the strong bold features, and the close-cropped beard. If you judged him merely by the indefinable impression that age itself produces, and at this slight distance, you would have said that he was a man of forty-five whose hair had become prematurely grey.
“He says himself that he feels all right—ready for anything. He is not conscious of the smallest diminution of his strength. Mr. Dyke, his health is wonderful”; and as Emmie said this, she was like a sensible unemotional mother speaking about a grown-up son. “Have you noticed, too, that he is less deaf—scarcely deaf at all?” And Emmie’s tone changed, and her face grew sad. “No, I’m afraid we can’t in justice rule him out on the score of health and age. Three or four years hence perhaps. But not now.”
She looked up to the terrace again, and then spoke with great firmness. “Of course, if he does go, it must be his very last voyage. There must be no nonsense about that. He must solemnly promise us both.”
“Emmie, he musn’t go”; and the old fellow put a trembling hand on her arm. “Don’t encourage him.”
“You shall advise me, dear Mr. Dyke. But let me tell you everything first.”
“Yes; but he mustn’t go,” he said eagerly. “He can’t go—if you consider it. We needn’t frighten ourselves. You and I may think he is still young—not yet too old for it. But he’ll never persuade other people to think that. He’ll never get anyone to give him another chance.”
“Ah!” Emmie winced, and moved her hands swiftly. “When I remember what has always happened, I believe that he will go anyhow—somehow. The real question is the how.”