“Why, father, we do not look on them as enemies at all!” he returned, with the ingenuousness of his years.
“Look you here, Master Kit, I cannot have you calling me 'father'; it has altogether too responsible a sound, and I do not wish to begin and bring you to book for matters which may, later on, call for a parent's judgment. Call me 'Chevalier,' if you like, it is more companionable, and it is as comrades you and I must live, unless you wish to have me interfering with you in a manner you might naturally enough resent later on. I love you heartily my boy, and it is love, not authority, I wish to be the bond between us. What do you say yourself?”
“It can never be anything less than that, sir; you know how I was drawn to you that very first morning, when I entered your room in Wych Street; you were the finest gentleman I had ever seen.”
“Well, you have seen better since, Kit.”
“None better to me, sir.” And he added, hurriedly, as if to cover his emotion, “Will you come over to us, now that we are victorious?”
“Oh, Kit, Kit, you are a true Englishman! Victorious! Why, great Heavens! We beat you fifty times over, only to-day! Not that it will make any great matter in the long run, perhaps, for it is no question of a single battle for either Lévis or Murray, it is the arrival of the first ships which will decide this affair. Wait until they come up, and then it will be time enough to talk of victory.”
The lad's face fell. “I mean for ourselves,” he said, wistfully; “this can't go on with us on different sides.”
“That is a serious matter for the principals, no doubt, Kit; but we need not worry over it, for I am not likely to be exchanged, the way things now are.”
“But when it is decided?”
“Your way, Kit?”