Harry was puzzled to understand to what she alluded, and naturally fancied that she spoke of some trip her father had taken her on board his boat, not doubting, of course, that she was the fisherman’s daughter.
In a short time they caught sight of Dame Halliburt, when Harry, delivering Maiden May to her care, without waiting to receive her thanks hurried homewards as he had promised.
Chapter Eleven.
Harry off to Sea.
A letter from Captain Fancourt at length arrived, summoning Harry to join the Triton. He bade an affectionate farewell to his kind old uncle. His brother had remarked the failing health of Sir Reginald.
“I shall be very sorry when he goes, but probably when you next come to see us, you will find us here,” observed Algernon, “unless our uncle should turn up and claim the title and property, and as he has not been heard of for a long time, I do not think that likely.”
“I have no wish to be here except as Sir Reginald’s guest,” answered Harry, with more feeling than his brother had displayed. “I hope that our old uncle will live for many a year to come.”
In those times of fierce and active warfare it was far more trying to the loving ones who remained at home when the moment of departure arrived, than to the brave and gallant soldiers and sailors who were going away to fight their country’s battles. They could not help reflecting how many were likely to fall in the contest, and that, though victories should be gained, their aching eyes might some day see in the list of killed or wounded the names of those from whom they now parted so full of life and spirits.