Most of the rest of us made similar remarks. We were not wrong in our conjectures, and, as far as I could learn, his lordship forgot all about us and his promises from the moment he started for London; and we were cast adrift to shift for ourselves.
Nettleship intended to go down to Plymouth, and wanted Tom Pim and me to accompany him; but Tom’s family were expecting him at home, and I hoped to get round direct from Portsmouth to Cork by sea.
The Osprey, which had returned to Portsmouth, was paid off at the time we were, and as there was no vessel sailing for Cork, I accepted an invitation from Sinnet to go over to Cowes, where his family were staying. We ran across in a wherry he had engaged.
As we were entering the harbour, we saw a fine-looking lugger at anchor, and while passing I inquired where she was bound to.
“Over to France, to the port of Grisnez or thereabouts,” answered a man who was walking the forecastle with his hands in his pockets.
“When do you sail?” I asked.
“May be to-morrow, may be next day,” was the answer.
“I say, Sinnet, I’ve a great mind, if the lugger remains here long enough, to take a passage in her, and go and pay my promised visit to La Touche. I wish you could come too; I am sure he will be glad to see you.”
“I wish I could, for I’m certain we should have good fun; but you see I have not been with my family for a long time, and they would look upon me as destitute of natural feeling if I went away so soon. If you, however, have a wish to go, don’t stand on ceremony. Should the lugger, however, remain long enough, I’ll take advantage of your proposal,” he said, as I accompanied him up to his house.
I was introduced to his father and mother and sisters, who were all such nice people that I was half inclined to give up my idea. Sinnet, however, mentioned the matter to the old gentleman, who at once told me not to stand on ceremony.