“Do not be cast down, mother,” exclaimed Harry, as Mrs Castleton pressed her gallant boy to her heart. “I shall come back safe and sound, depend on that; remember the verse of the song in Dibdin’s new play:—
“‘There’s a sweet little cherub who sits up aloft
To take care of the life of poor Jack.’”
“Let us rather trust to Him by whom the hairs of our head are all numbered—without whose knowledge not a sparrow falls to the ground—instead of talking in that light way,” murmured Miss Mary, who was sitting knitting near the window. “Let us pray to Him, my dear Harry, that you may be brought back in safety.”
“I will, Cousin Mary,” said Harry, “and I am sure mother will too. I spoke thoughtlessly. It is the way of speaking one is accustomed to hear.”
“Too much, I am afraid,” said Miss Mary. “We are all too apt to speak lightly on such matters.” The carriage came to the door.
“You will continue to study French diligently, Master Harry,” said Madame De La Motte, as she wished him good-bye. “Though my countrymen are your enemies, you will love the language for my sake, will you not?”
Harry promised that he would do as she advised; indeed, he was well aware that the knowledge he already possessed was likely to prove very useful to him on many occasions.
His sister Julia was the last of the family he embraced. “The next time I come home I must bring my old shipmate, Headland; I am glad to find that he has joined the Triton. He is one of the noblest and most gallant fellows alive,” he said, as he wished her good-bye.
“Though we shall be happy to see your friend, I only want you to bring yourself back, Harry, safe and sound, with your proper complement of arms and legs,” she answered, smiling through her tears.
“I would sacrifice one or the other to have my name in the Gazette, and to gain my promotion, so I can make no promises,” he replied, springing into the carriage after Algernon, and waving his hat as it drove off.