Marion's glance ran affectionately over the young giant. 'But really,
you know, Roger, I have been rather unhappy about you since the other
day at Poole's cottage. If it hadn't been for me, you'd have been in
Bodmin gaol now.'
'As well there as anywhere,' replied the youth, his gaze out to sea.
'The nearest road to a vessel of your own lies not through Bodmin gaol.
See, Roger, will you promise me to--to be careful?'
The brown eyes looked steadily into the grey ones.
'Careful of what?'
'Why--not to get mixed up in some foolish affair for which you really
care nothing.'
Roger roused himself with a laugh. 'I think you have got from the
Admiral that trick of turning the tables. Here I was just going to ask
you the same thing.'
'_I'm_ not likely to bestir myself about political affairs, sir.'
'I hope not. But seriously, Mawfy, I do not like the whole affair--your
going, I mean. Your father cannot stay long with you, and then you will
be with strangers. Will you promise to let me know if you should be in
any need?'
Marion smiled indulgently, then sobered, and looked broodingly across
the land again. 'Oh Roger!' she cried impulsively, not thinking at all
of herself, only conscious of the little boy grown big at her side. 'I
could wish it were all over, and I were back again. I'm afraid for you.
Something is going to happen. For days I've had a foreboding. I always
know when a storm is coming, and in the same way I know now----'
She pulled herself up. It was not her way to talk at random of her
innermost feelings.
'Nonsense, nonsense!' said Roger briskly. 'Nothing ever happens unless
you let it. You had a foreboding when I went to Blundell's. And what
happened? Nothing! Oh yes--Elise came.'
They looked at each other in silence. Then Roger smiled. 'Come, Mawfy,
'tis my last half hour.'