The next morning at breakfast the Skipper noticed that his mother
looked as if she had been crying again, and the sight came like a chill
over the boy.
"But she isn't very angry with me," he thought the next moment, for she
kissed him eagerly. "It's only because she's sorry. I'm never going to
make her unhappy again, though," he thought, as he went on to shake
hands with his father.
"Morning, Bob," said the Captain, pressing his boy's hand hard, and
then turning to Dot, whom he jumped up so as to kiss her lovingly.
That was a very dull breakfast, for the sad looks of Captain and Mrs.
Trevor had their effect upon the young folks, who were glad to escape,
at last, to their own room, where they stayed till about ten o'clock,
when Mrs. Trevor came suddenly in, looking very pale.
"Come, my darlings," she said; "your poor father wants to see you."
She caught Dot's hand in hers and led her through the door, leaving
poor Bob half stunned; for his mother seemed so strange to him, and he
could not get the idea out of his head that this was all something to
do with yesterday's trouble; but he could not find the words to ask,
and so followed into the drawing-room, where Captain Trevor was looking
very hard and stern, as he held out his hands to Dot, catching her in
his arms and kissing her in a way that startled her.
Then taking out his watch, he glanced at it and thrust it back in his
pocket, drawing himself up directly after, and looking harder than
ever. His voice sounded strange too, as, without even glancing at his
son, he said sharply:
"I have driven it too long. There is not a minute if I am to catch this
train. Duty, my own. For pity's sake be firm, or you will unman me."
Bob saw his mother draw herself up, press her lips together, and knit
her brows, as she nodded her head at her husband and took Dot, who
looked frightened, from his arms.
"That's right," said the Captain sharply; "that's like my wife;" and
placing his hands upon her arms, he bent down and kissed her on the
forehead, turned and caught the boy's hand, wrung it hard, and strode
out of the room.
The next moment they heard his step in the hall, and directly after on
the gravel outside. In another moment he was passing the window, to
turn and wave his hand, when, as Bob felt heartsick with the feeling of
misery which attacked him, Dot, who felt that something dreadful was
the matter, hid her face on her mother's shoulder and began to cry
bitterly.
This had its good effect upon Mrs. Trevor, who began to kiss and soothe
her.
"Hush, hush, my darling," she cried. "You must not cry, but help poor
Mamma to try and bear it. You must help me to pray to God to watch over
him and bring him back safely to us from that dreadful place."
These words unlocked the Skipper's silent tongue.
"What dreadful place?" he cried excitedly.
"Africa, my boy--the Gold Coast--the White Man's----"
Mrs. Trevor shuddered, and checked herself.
"Gone!" cried the boy again, with the feeling strong upon him that his
father was still angry and had not forgiven him. And he had gone
without a word. He had kissed Dot and her mother, but only just pressed
his hand.
"Gone!" he said again.
"Yes, my boy," sobbed Mrs. Trevor. "But he is a sailor, and it is his
duty to serve his country and his Queen. You, my boy, must----"
The poor Skipper heard no more. With a bitter cry he rushed out of the
room, through the hall, and then along the path toward the swing gate,
hatless and desperate.
"I must tell father how sorry I am," he panted--"he must bid me
good-bye before he goes--I must--I must--tell him."
And then, setting his teeth hard, he ran at full speed to overtake the
Captain; for he was too young to understand the workings of his gallant
father's heart, and the agony he felt at parting, suddenly ordered, as
he had been, to be ready to start that night on a voyage to a deadly
part of the African coast--a place from which many who were sent never
returned.