“Thank you, uncle; it will make him sing at the top of his voice when he hears that,” I said. “And when are we to be off?”
“To-morrow, or the day after, at the furthest,” answered the major. “I intend to go with you to introduce you to your captain, and to have a talk with him over old times.”
“Then may I run and tell my father and mother, and Maurice, and Denis, and the girls?”
“To be sure, boy; but you mustn’t be surprised if they are not as delighted to hear of your going, as you are to go,” he answered, as I bolted out of the room.
I found my brothers turning out of bed, and gave them a full account of the captain’s letter. They took the matter coolly.
“I wish you joy,” said Maurice, who was expecting shortly to get his commission in our uncle’s old regiment. I then went to the girls, who were by this time dressed. Kathleen and Nora congratulated me warmly.
“And shure are you going to be a real midshipman?” said Nora. “I wish I was a boy myself, that I might go to sea, and pull, and haul, and dance a hornpipe.”
They, at all events, didn’t seem so much cast down as my uncle supposed they would be. My father had just been wheeled out of his chamber into the breakfast room, for he was suffering from an attack of his sworn enemy.
“Keep up the honour of the O’Finnahans, my boy; and you’ll only do that by performing your duty,” he said, patting me on the back,—for shaking hands was a ceremony he was unwilling to venture on with his gouty fingers.
My mother was later than usual. I hurried off to her room. As she listened to my account her eyes were fixed on me till they became filled with tears.