What would I not give, I thought, to
see what he had seen, and do what he had done!
"But now to be practical," said the captain. "You want to go: very
well, go. But you won't sneak off like Cyrus Vetch; you can't go
with a commission like young Cludde. How much money have you got?"
"A few guineas I have saved."
"Well, keep them; you may be in a tight place some day, and find
'em handy. You have a hankering for the sea, you say. Then tramp to
Bristowe, as your champion Joe Punchard did, and hitch on to John
Benbow if you can find him. He'll work you hard, if all that's said
about him is true; but he'll either make you or break you. That's
my advice."
Advice that jumps with one's own inclinations hath ever a
comfortable appearance of soundness. I told the captain that he had
hit on the very scheme I had proposed to myself, adding, however,
that I had thought to go a-horseback.
"A-horseback!" he cried. "What want you with a horse? You don't own
a horse, and to hire one you would expend all your guineas and have
nothing to feed either him or yourself. No, go on your shanks;
there's a world of knowledge to be gained by footing it on the open
road."
And so we settled that Captain Galsworthy should himself come to
our house on Pride Hill and break the news to my good friends
there. They were both downcast when they heard it, Mr. Vetch more
than Mistress Pennyquick, which somewhat surprised me. He plied me
with innumerable reasons for remaining with him, spoke of the long
miles I should have to trudge before I reached the port, described
the perils of the road, even foresaw that I should be arrested as a
vagrant and clapped into jail! He conjured up dismal pictures of
the seafaring life, and waxed quite eloquent in drawing a contrast
between the bare windswept deck and the cosy fireside, the dangers
from storm and pirates and the serenity of our quiet town.
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